


The Challenger

by gubernaculum



Series: The Namesakes [14]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubernaculum/pseuds/gubernaculum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto has to stand on his own two feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I'm only borrowing everything purely for non-profit and completely recreational purposes. The characters of Miranda Ryan, Joseph Fischer, Jennifer Richter and Perry Kent are my own. I have cast them as Zhang Ziyi, Jesse Spencer, Deborah Ann Woll and Jeffrey Donovan respectively. This fic is unbeta'd and therefore probably full of grammatical and typographical errors. Writing is purely a hobby for me. I am an American and have attempted to do my own Britpicking so I apologize for any errors there as well. This is also AU for Torchwood as I like to pretend CoE and Miracle Day never happened. As always, I am borrowing Highlander concepts and names so it won't line up well with that show's canon. This is more of a Highlander-centric story so that disclaimer applies even more here.

Ianto slowed his pace a bit, shaking the sweat from his brow. He was heaving but it was good. When he glanced at his watch, he was three seconds under his personal best and that made it worthwhile. He turned the corner towards the park. It was closed this early in the morning but Ianto always broke in, scaling the fence. Incorporating the unpaved terrain had been Duncan MacLeod’s suggestion. _You never know when you’ll have to run where there aren’t roads…_ Ianto smiled at the memory that Duncan had no recollection of himself. It was one of many memories Ianto had from being stuck in a pocket universe two years ago. In that other reality, he’d been a student of the Highlander and in a very different place in the Game. When life had returned to normal, his mind remembered things his body didn’t. He’d gone from being on the scoreboard in the false reality to being a fledgling in the true one. His strength and stamina had significantly decreased. He knew without the score he’d once had that it would never return to what it had been but he refused to seek out challenges to improve himself. Instead, he’d begun a rigid training regime that included a daily morning run. 

Being a man of order, Ianto Jones liked routine. It soothed him. While life at Torchwood was never exactly normal, the past year and a half had been particularly tumultuous. Things were just starting to settle back down. After a lengthily sabbatical following her miscarriage, Gwen was back with the team looking well rested, and more importantly, in better spirits. Mickey and Martha had returned to their lives and Ianto was becoming more and more confident as team medic. Originally, he’d taken on the medic duties out of necessity but he was finding genuine enjoyment in the work. Taking care of the team came naturally to him. He continued to do so, just in a different way. 

As the fence for the park came into view, Ianto smiled. He’d started adding small mid-run obstacles, enjoying the challenge. He gripped the fence and heaved himself over it. Once he hit the ground, he kept running. The first time he’d attempted this, he’d slipped and broken his ankle. He’d allowed it and his dignity to heal over the next half hour while he’d sat in the mud. Now, the landing was getting easier. He ducked through some trees, ignoring the paved pathway to his left. At first, the unpaved terrain had been difficult, but like the fence, it was getting easier, even though the ground was frozen and slick from frost.

He swerved and ducked to avoid a large, fallen branch and then stopped dead. That branch hadn’t been there yesterday. Ianto always followed the same route on his run, nearly neurotic in his routine - something Miranda would have simultaneously praised and chastised. Branches fall all the time, of course, but Miranda had taught him to be more cautious and wary. Before his time in the alternate universe, Ianto hadn’t taken the Game as seriously as his teacher had advised. Inwardly, he’d poked fun at how she saw threats everywhere, often wary of what Ianto thought was only imaginary danger. The alternate reality had changed his perceptions. He carried experience with him now and understood Miranda’s paranoia better. Sometimes a branch was just a fallen branch but sometimes it was also a trap. It was better to be cautious and alive than sloppy and dead. 

Lightning fast, he hit the quick release on the side of the cylindrical case strapped to his back. His sword slid out the bottom and he tossed the case aside. Ianto grabbed the hilt as he turned, raising it defensively. He scanned the area around him and found nothing amiss. He backed towards the branch, slowly, examining it in between watching the area around him. There were no saw marks or any other signs the branch had done nothing but snap of its own accord. He waited a solid minute before retrieving the cylindrical case and concealing his sword again. With a strange feeling on the edge of his psyche, he resumed his run. 

Instead of remaining in the park as he usually would, he immediately turned around and jumped the fence again. Instead of vaulting himself up and over, this time he climbed slowly, careful not to accidentally slip or injure himself. He ran along the side of the park to where he normally would’ve exited it and resumed his route. This time instead of pushing his speed, he kept his pace leisurely. It wouldn’t do to be ambushed when he was exhausted from exercise. In fact, he decided to cut the whole thing short. He turned towards the bake shop so he could pick up breakfast for the team on his way back to the Hub. 

Maybe it was the branch, but Ianto couldn’t shake the strange feeling in his gut. He slowed to a brisk walk, enough to conserve his energy but not enough that the morning cold seeped into his muscles. While he waited to cross a street, he looked around, pretending to stretch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shawn Graham, his Watcher. He was on the other side of the street, also dressed in running clothes. The poor man looked quite winded and worn. Ianto knew Shawn disliked exercise but it was Shawn’s job to follow Ianto where ever he went, to observe his movement through the Game. If Ianto went for a run, Shawn had to run to keep up with him. He was probably more than grateful Ianto had slowed down. At first, Ianto had asked Shawn to join him on his runs but Shawn had insisted that would be interference. He’d explained that his presence could influence potential challengers unwilling to present themselves without privacy.  

His relationship with Shawn was one area where Ianto and Miranda differed. _Being friendly with my Watcher and my Watcher being my friend are two very different things_ … she’d told him. Miranda kept her own Watcher, Kiernan Davies, at a discrete distance. Ianto, on the other hand, was friends with Shawn and they often went round the pub for a friendly pint or meal. He didn’t much care what the Watchers thought about it or Miranda for that matter. Shawn followed Ianto where ever he went, as often as he could. He recorded Ianto’s life and Ianto wanted that record to be accurate. It felt disingenuous to hide himself from Shawn. Ianto also found it highly rude to make his job purposefully difficult. He genuinely liked Shawn. He was a good bloke and the two of them had fun together.

Ianto waved at Shawn and got a weak smile in return. He mimed taking a drink with his hand but Shawn shook his head, refusing the polite invitation. Ianto waved again and nodded, turning towards the bake shop. After he picked up the team’s usual orders, he walked towards the Plass and the Hub below it. When he turned towards the ramp, he saw a young woman standing at the other end of the Plass. Even at this distance, he could tell she was a beauty. She was extremely tall, maybe only a few inches shorter than Ianto himself. Her hair was bright ginger but pin straight, hanging nearly to her waist. She was holding a paper map in her hands. She was twisting and turning it while looking up and down the Plass. She looked very cold and very lost. 

Even though he wanted to get indoors and warm up, he took pity. He changed directions and walked up the Plass. As he approached her, a slight pressure formed behind his head. He stopped, raising his eyebrows. He turned left and right. It was early and there was no one else on the Plass. Normally, that pressure in his head would cause him alarm but this sensation was different. Instead of feeling like his head was in a vice, there was just the faintest push behind his forehead. _She’s a pre-born_ … he said. He was sensing this woman’s potential to become an immortal of the Game. She was still mortal. It intrigued him. This was the first time he’d sensed a pre-born and been certain of who it was. Whenever this happened, Ianto had always been out in a crowd. Surrounded by so many people, he’d been unable to figure out from whom the sensation was coming. The feeling gave him a strange sense of kinship with her. 

Not wanting to startle her, he called out from a fair distance, “Can I help you find something?” 

She looked up and said, “I’m okay, thanks.” 

Ianto nodded and turned but the poor woman seemed to just continue to turn the map, looking just as lost as before. The twangy vowels sounded incredibly strange. He recognised the accent as American but he wasn’t familiar enough to know from specifically which region. Perhaps from the south?

“Are you sure?” he asked, still keeping back. She seemed afraid of him. 

“I’m fine,” she insisted. At that precise moment, the wind picked up. It snatched the map from her fingers. “Shit!” 

The paper map tumbled and landed in a slushy puddle of water. Ianto was trying his hardest not to laugh. It was like a scene out of a bad movie. Unable to watch her suffer any longer, Ianto darted forward. He picked up the sodden piece of paper. He shook some of the slush off of it and then tried to peel apart the layers without damaging them. 

“Shit,” she said abruptly. She yanked it out of his hands and the wet paper tore. “Shit!” 

He held up a calming hand. “I don’t bite.” 

To his surprise, her bottom lip began to quiver. 

“Are you all right? Miss?” he asked. 

Suddenly, she let out a dry sob. Ianto didn’t know what else to do. He dropped the wet half of the map and put his arm around her. 

“There, there. We’ll sort it,” he said, patting her back gently. His morning certainly was turning out strange. It was one thing for a strange branch to fall in is path but this as well? This additional strangeness had him more on edge. She looked simultaneously terrified and on the edge of hysteria. The paranoia welled up in him. Was she a distraction? Was someone about to attack? 

She started to babble, “My boyfriend and I were gonna take this trip together. It was supposed to be an adventure. But he left me for that slut barista and everyone said I should cut my losses and not go alone but I kept telling them I’d be fine and that I wasn’t stupid and I could do it by myself and everything’s gone nothing but wrong. I missed the ferry so I had to take one later and didn’t wanna go to London at night so I ended up in this crap hotel and the guy behind the counter said the train station was south of the stadium and there’s nothing south of here but water!”

The poor thing was completely overwhelmed. If she was acting, she was doing a hell of a job. Ianto decided her distress was genuine. He led her over to a bench and sat her down, still keeping his sword’s case within easy reach. He winced a little at the cold bench under his thin clothes. “There are plenty of trains that run between here and London. If you miss one, you can take another. It’ll be fine.” 

Ianto gave her a warm smile. He waved at the large building and said, “The railway station you’re looking for is by the Millennium Stadium. This is the Wales Millennium Centre. The Stadium is a rugby pitch. This is a concert hall. It’s an easy mistake to make. There is a railway station near here but it doesn’t go to London.” 

He reached into the bag from the bake shop. He dug around in the box and took out one of the Welsh cakes he’d bought for himself. He offered it to her. They were still warm. “Go on then. It’s called a Welsh cake, a local pastry. It’s lovely and warm.” 

“Thank you,” she said, sheepishly taking it from him. She sniffled loudly, starting to appear quite embarrassed about her little breakdown. “I’m sorry. I kinda lose it at the drop of a hat these days. Y’all are real nice here.” 

Ianto smiled at the odd American contraction. Her accent was quite charming, like something out of a television programme or film. He held out a few paper napkins to her in case the tears in her eyes spilled over. “We try our best. Why don’t you let me get you another map?”

She looked around and said, “Where? Everything’s closed.” 

“There’s a Tourist Office down the way,” he said, pointing. “I work there.” 

“You do?” she said, sounding like a small girl. She sniffled and wiped at her nose. “You mean? I got lost in England and some guy who works at a tourist office just happened by?” 

He shook his head, trying not to roll his eyes at the common misconception. “Actually, you got lost in Wales.” 

“Wales?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Wales.”

“You mean, I’m so lost, I’m the wrong country?” she said, the sad eyes returning. 

He pointed east. “England is that way. It’s not far. You’re not as lost as you think,” he said with a smile. He put his hands on his knees to push himself up. Carrying the box, he started to walk. “Come on then.” 

Sniffling, she followed him down the Plass, nibbling her pastry as they went. When they arrived at the Tourist Office, she stopped and said, nervously, “Uhh. I think I’m fine without the map.” 

Ianto looked at the derelict office and then at her. From her point of view, the whole thing was very dodgy. She was probably worried she was going to end up down a hole being told to put the lotion in the basket. “You can wait out here if you like.” 

“I don’t want to offend or nothing…” 

Normally, Ianto would’ve found the poor grammar typically American, but it went with the accent somehow and added to this woman’s charm. 

“None taken. I’ll just be a minute,” he said. He walked up to the Tourist Office and unlocked the door. Despite the cold draft, he left it open as he stepped inside. He put the pastries down on the counter. He went round it and started digging through the boxes. _Leaflets_ … He put the box back and reached for another. _Dragons_ … Normally, his nearly eidetic memory would allow him to remember where everything was so he never needed to label the boxes. The others had strict instructions not to move the boxes or misplace things. They were instructions that generally Jack ignored. He sighed and opened another small box. _Flags_ … He shook his head, frustrated, and decided his husband was getting a thorough lecture. Every single box was misplaced. This was the absolutely last time he let Jack ‘do him a favour’ and pack up the Tourist Office for the off season. 

The ginger head leaned into the room, nervously. “Hello?” 

Ianto didn’t looked up. He held up his hand, index finger extended. He said, “Be just a minute. Come in and warm up.” 

“I don’t wanna to be a bother,” she said, looking nervously at all the boxes. She blew into her hands to warm them. 

“It’s no bother,” he said, picking up another box. “We’re normally closed for the season so things are boxed away.” He gave her a little wink. “Winter isn’t a popular tourist season for the UK.” 

She walked over and picked up one of the red Welsh dragons, smiling at it.

“Ah, here we are.” He took two of the maps out and put them down in front of her. “And a spare, just in case.” He winked and she smiled. He leaned over the counter and took out two more leaflets. “A bus and train schedule.” 

He unfolded the map and pointed. “It’s a twenty five, thirty minute walk from here. If you’re not keen on walking in the cold, you can take the baycar up to the city centre. That will get you close to the railway station. They run every ten minutes.” 

“Thanks, you’ve been real nice,” she said. She put back the dragon and reached into her purse. 

Ianto shook his head. He picked the dragon up and handed it to her. “There’s no charge for any of it. Welcome to Wales.” 

“Oh no, I can’t possibly. I don’t want you to get in trouble or nothing,” she said. She looked at the security camera above Ianto’s shoulder and tried to give back the stuffed dragon. 

He shook his head. “I won’t. I’m the boss.” 

“Thank you,” she said, pocketing the maps. She smiled broadly at the stuffed red dragon. 

He asked, “Where are you staying in London? I used to live there. If you need more directions…?”

She shook her head, looking embarrassed and sheepish. “No where yet. Like I said, this was supposed to be an adventure. Take off. No plan. Bounce around. Free bird, like. I know it sounds stupid.” 

“Not at all,” he said. He waved around the Tourist Office. “If you don’t have any solid plans to go to London, why don’t you think about seeing some of Wales?” He came out from behind the counter and began randomly selecting the leaflets. “Even in the off season, there is still plenty to see and do. Even though it’s chilly, there’s off season hiking if you enjoy the out of doors. We’ve historical sites and castles.” He reached out for another leaflet and handed it to her. “Like I said, it’s the off season, but there is still plenty to do.”

She smiled, taking all the leaflets from her. “Thanks.” 

“Well, you have plenty of ideas if you decide to stay a bit,” Ianto said, tapping the leaflets. 

“Thanks, again,” she said, still looking embarrassed.  

“Don’t mention it and good luck.” Ianto wondered when the last time someone treated her with kindness. As she left, he couldn’t help but add, “That boyfriend of yours was a right tosser. You deserve better.” 

She only let out half a laugh and hurried out. Feeling a bit chuffed he’d cheered her up, he picked up the pastries. He went down into the Hub to shower and begin his day.


	2. Chapter 2

The strangely fallen tree branch from yesterday was still on Ianto’s mind. As he’d dressed for his run this morning, he could hear Miranda’s voice warning him to have irregularities in his routine. So he’d had some less conventional exercise with Jack and planned to run in the afternoon, taking a different route. Unluckily, the day had been filled with random rift alerts and he not only missed his run, couldn’t take care of his usual errands. In the end, his errands, both personal and Torchwood related, won out over his exercise since he was down to two clean shirts. It had been three but Jack had managed to ruin one this afternoon during a romp in the archives. 

He walked up to the cash point and slid his card through the slot, checking his watch. He tapped in the PIN and started moving through the touch screen menu. This actually wasn’t his errand, it was Jack’s. Ianto rarely carried cash, but for some reason he couldn’t understand, Jack preferred it. In particular, he enjoyed coins. Ianto hated it. He was always finding coins in Jack’s pockets when he did the laundry or strewn around the bunker or the Hub. Like a proper butler-part-valet, he’d been running Jack’s errands since he’d joined Torchwood Three. At first, it’d been part of his job but now it was another way for him to take care of Jack and one of Ianto’s great joys in life was taking care of Jack.

As he was putting the notes into his wallet, he felt the light pressure behind his forehead. There was a pre-born close by. As usual, Ianto ignored it. How often he felt it had surprised him in the beginning. The number of potential immortals seemed disproportionate to the numbers of actual immortals but he supposed if you figured in how many unnatural deaths of a violent nature occur, it evened things out. He stepped away from the cash point. He was about to turn back to his car but a bright length of ginger hair caught his eye. It was the woman from yesterday. She was who he’d sensed. This time she didn’t look lost at all. She was standing on the corner, looking up at Cardiff Castle. One of the leaflets he’d given her yesterday was in her hands. Putting on a friendly smile, Ianto walked over. 

“Did you miss your train again?” he asked. 

She turned, looking at him with a startled expression. She looked up and down the road as if looking for an escape or a witness for her inevitable murder. 

He realised that he must seem like a nutter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I’ll leave you be.”

“Wait!” she called out. She reached forward for his arm, her fingers brushing his sleeve. 

“I’m sorry. I’m still sorta messed up these days,” she said, sheepish. “Kinda think every man out there’s the devil himself. I’m sorry. You were real nice yesterday. You’d said something about castles and I ain’t never seen a real one before. I wasn’t gonna stay but isn’t that what traveling’s for? Seeing new places…” She gave him a shy smile. “Meeting people…” 

He realised he’d never introduced himself. He held out his hand. “Ianto Jones.” 

“Jennifer Richter,” she said, shaking his hand. It was your typical American handshake, complete with broad smile and firm grip. 

Again, he found the deep accent charming. She was more cheerful than yesterday and far less flustered. He looked down at his watch. The castle was closing soon but there was still time. He nodded toward the entrance. “Would you like to go in?” 

She looked at him, as if noticing his suit for the first time. “If you’re busy… if you gotta back to work or something…” 

“There’s no rush. I was running some errands,” he said with a bright smile.

She laughed and asked, “So you wanna blow off your errands and work and take some random American on a tour of a castle?” 

“If that’s all right with you,” he said, giving her another smile. He put his left hand out in front of him, gesturing towards the entrance. 

She flicked her eyes to his wedding ring. She screwed up her face in a way that was a mixture of skepticism and disapproval. “You know, I got this kid brother and he was always trying to pull the wool over our Daddy’s eyes. And when he got caught, which he always did, my Daddy’d say, ‘I was born at night, boy, but it weren’t last night.’” 

Ianto couldn’t help but burst out a laugh at the witty expression. He gave her a tiny bow and put his hand on his heart. “Honourable intentions, I swear. My husband says I have a lot of local knowledge. He’d be pleased I was putting it to good use.” 

“Husband?” she said, eyebrows shooting upwards with surprise. 

“Is that a problem?” he asked, neutrally. 

She put her hands up. “No! Of course not! No, not at all! I just… I’m surprised’s all. You don’t seem like… I mean… I thought you were… I’m just gonna stop talking before I stick my foot further down my mouth.” 

“No offence taken, I promise,” he tried to reassure. He gave her a playful wink. “C’mon then. It’s closing soon.” 

Ianto took her on a quick tour, pointing out this and that. He talked about the castle and its history. Jennifer was an eager tourist. She stared at everything wide eyed and was happy to listen to Ianto drone on. She even asked a few questions and Ianto was enjoying himself. He’d forgotten what it was like to spend time with someone normal. When he socialised, it was with the team, Henry or Shawn. Aside from his sister and her family, there was no one in his life who wasn’t associated with Torchwood or the Game. The realisation made him a little sad and feel more than a little pathetic. It was silly to make friends with Jennifer as she was leaving soon but he could enjoy the normalcy while it lasted. As they left the castle for the street, he offered her his arm and asked, “Would you like to get something to eat? Something local perhaps?” 

“Oh, I’ve wasted enough of your time,” Jennifer replied, shy. 

He thought he saw a flash of fear as she looked up and down the street. A lorry drove past and the sound of it made her jump. This poor thing was so easily startled. Ianto was beginning to wonder if this boyfriend had been more than a cheating wanker. Had that bastard been abusive?  

“Nonsense, you’re not wasting my time,” he said, gently. 

“Won’t your husband wonder where you are?” she asked. 

Ianto took out his mobile and sent Jack a quick text. “Not now, he won’t. Fish and chips?” 

He offered her his arm again. She smiled and took it, saying, “Well, I guess he can’t get jealous or nothing.”

Ianto smiled. Jack would never be jealous of him spending his time with such a lovely woman. In fact, the first thing he’d do is suggest the three of them spend some time getting to know each other. His second suggestion would be that Ianto get to know her and supply him with video. 

“So, where are you from?” he asked. 

“America,” she replied. 

He gave her a bemused look. She laughed, “Oh, you meant which part. Sorry, Louisiana. It’s in the south. Nothing exciting.” 

“I’ve never been to America, so I find it exciting,” he said. He turned the corner towards the fish and chip shop. “Is this your first time in Europe?” 

“First time out of Louisiana,” she said, nodding. 

Even though it was cold, they kept their pace leisurely. Ianto knew the shop wasn’t far. He was glad that she’d relaxed. She was gripping his arm tightly, even leaning into him a bit. He brought his other hand around, resting it on hers. 

“It’s very brave of you to come such a long way on your own,” he praised. 

She let out a sarcastic laugh. “Cheap more like.” 

Cheap was the last adjective Ianto would use to describe flying across half a country and an ocean. “How so?” 

“I know it don’t seem like it down on paper, but I figured I was already out the money for one ticket, seemed a shame to waste the other one. So. Here I am,” she said, giving him a one shouldered shrug. “How about you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You travel a lot?” she asked. 

“A little, for work,” he said. 

“Been anyplace interesting?” she asked. 

“My husband and I went to Rome and the south of France on holiday.” He didn’t think he should mention he toured the solar system for his honeymoon.

The two of them continued to chat away until they got to the restaurant. Ianto held the door open for her and they found a table. It wasn’t the best fish and chips in town but it was within walking distance of the castle. She turned her nose up at the malt vinegar but Ianto managed to change her mind. 

“You didn’t have to pay for dinner,” she said, as they stepped back out onto the street. 

“Of course, I did,” he insisted. “I am a proper gentleman after all.” 

“I still prefer ketchup,” she said, as they stepped back onto the street. 

“You liked the vinegar,” he teased. 

“Okay, okay. I liked it,” she admitted. 

He looked up and down the street. Since it was getting late, it was mostly deserted. When she looked up and down the street, she caught the eye of someone standing on the far corner. She quickly averted his glance and looked startled. 

“Are you all right?” he asked and reached for her arm. He pulled it back when she recoiled. Ianto recognised the hand-shy reaction. This poor woman was no stranger to fists.  

“Fine,” she said, smiling. “Just a little spooky at night in a strange place.” 

Ianto looked around and then at his watch. “Cardiff is usually safe but you should be careful on your own at night no matter where you go. Do you want me to walk you back to your hotel?” 

“No!” she said quickly and then more slowly said, “I mean, thanks but no, I can make it on my own.” 

“If you’re sure,” he said, smiling. 

“Yeah,” she said, returning the smile. It never reached her eyes. “Thanks. For everything.” 

“Good luck.” He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. “Look, if you need anything while you’re here, anything at all, just ring, okay? Even if you’re not in Cardiff.” 

She hesitated before taking the card. He extended his arm, pushing the card closer her to you. “Jennifer, you’re on your own in a strange country. I meant what I said before about it being brave but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have some back up just in case.” 

She gave him a tight smile and took the card from him. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. London is only a two hour drive or train ride. I was serious about offering my help, if you need anything.” He put his hand out and she grasped it. This handshake was a complete change from the one before. Her fingers were ice cold and her grip was limp.

“I hope I don’t need to take you up on that,” she said, nervously. “I reckon this is goodbye. It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he replied. “Be safe.” 

She gave him another tight smile, and without another word, turned and walked away as fast as she could. Ianto sincerely hoped she would be all right on her own. Then he saw the man standing next to the lamp post turn and follow her.


	3. Chapter 3

Jennifer forced herself to keep walking away from Ianto and back to her hotel. She had to stop herself from turning back more than once. She kept her head down, looking back over her shoulder as inconspicuously as possible. Once Ianto was out of sight, she breathed a sigh of relief. That relief was short lived as a hand reached out, grabbed her arm and dragged her into the alleyway. She let out a stifled scream of surprise and another hand planted itself firmly over her mouth. Her attacker pressed her firmly into the brick wall, shaking her a bit. 

“You were supposed to bring him with you,” he said, loud and angry. His accent was American. He lowered his hand, gripping her arms. He shoved her against the wall. Her head hit the brick and she squeezed her eyes shut as they watered. 

“I tried!” she whinged. “He’s gay! He’s married! He wasn’t falling for it!” 

He rolled his eyes at her, mimicking her tone. “He’s gay… He’s married… He wasn’t falling for it…” He let out a cruel laugh and shoved her against the wall again. “You make him fall for it!” 

Even though they were the same height, when she tried to push back to defend herself, she lost. He was stronger than her. He grabbed her face with his hand and squeezed. He leaned in, his face bare inches from hers. His breath fogged the air and she grabbed his wrist. 

“Who took care of your Daddy and got you out of that podunk little town? Me. Who told you the truth? Me. Who’s been keeping you safe? Me. We’re a team, Jens.” 

He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled as she let out a squeal. “I don’t want this one to drag out. It’s not safe.” He let go of her and took a step back. “You scratch my back. I scratch yours. I keep your head attached and you bring me ones to cut off.” 

She stepped forward, defensive. “What am I supposed to do here? I don’t exactly have the right fucking equipment for this seduction!” 

“I don’t know and I don’t fucking care,” he said. Even though the sun was down, he took a pair of aviator sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Figure it out. Focus, Jens.” 

“What kind of douchebag wear sunglasses at night?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“What was that?” he asked, loudly. He took two quick steps towards her with his fist raised and she shrank away. “I fucking thought so. Stop busting my balls about the fucking sunglasses.” 

“Why’s it gotta be him anyway? This is a big city. London’s a couple hours away. We can find someone else,” she insisted. 

He lowered his fist and tilted his head at her. “You have a fucking brain tumor with your in-flight meal? I told you, this guy’s got some street cred. Heard he dropped someone three times his age.” 

“Doesn’t that mean we should find someone else?” she protested. 

“Doesn’t that mean we should find someone else?” he mimicked. “I told you, the guy’s a kid. He’s probably full of shit. He’s a cheat, Jens.” 

“You said he was running like a fucking freight train yesterday,” she pointed out. 

He raised his fist and she shrank away again. He knocked on her head lightly. “Hello, anyone home up there? It isn’t all about training. It’s about smarts. It’s about out thinking the other guy. That’s what you’re for. Stick to the plan. We take out just anyone and people’ll start thinking we’re aggressive. We need to play it smart. We take out people like him, the ones pushing the lines? No one will look twice. They’ll think we’re cleaning up.” 

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly invite him back to my hotel room for a little ‘something something’ now can I?” she said, crossing her arms.

“It’s just gonna take a little longer, that’s all,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. “Listen, I’m gonna scout around the city for a good spot, maybe something near a tourist attraction, maybe something that’s nice at night. You go for a walk afterwards and it’ll all work out in our favour.” 

“I’m supposed to be on vacation. He thinks I’m leaving for London. He’s gonna get suspicious if I stick around long enough to become pals.” 

He pointed at her. “Well it’s your fucking job to make sure he doesn’t become suspicious. Got it? Play it smart, Jens.” 

“Yeah, Perry, I got it,” she replied. “Can I fucking go now?” 

“Yeah, go on, get out of here,” he said. “You pick up your fucking cell when I call it.” 

Jennifer scurried away with her head down, resuming her walk back to her hotel. What she didn’t see was Ianto, more than a fair distance away, slipping his PDA into his pocket. He’d wisely kept his distance as Jennifer scampered off. He’d nearly run to her rescue when she’d been pulled into the alleyway but something had held him back. Neither of them had bothered to keep their voices down. He hadn’t heard all of the conversation but he’d used his PDA to record what he could. He looked up and spied the traffic cameras. He’d be able to use Torchwood’s resources to access them and get their faces. Just in case the camera angle wasn’t great, the moment Jennifer had stepped back out onto the street, Ianto had snapped a few covert pictures of her. He’d wondered if it was worth it to risk this other man possibly sensing his presence to get a picture. In the end, the decision was made for him. 

The unknown immortal stepped out of the alleyway, not even waiting for Jennifer to leave properly. He looked up and down the street. The cameras would have good angles for his face. He was as tall as Jennifer and slim. Ianto knew not to be deceived. With time and quickenings in him, this man could be quite strong. His shirt was too small for him, tight against his muscles. His hair was closely cropped and black. He looked like he should be walking down the street of some warm costal city. Ianto thought he looked like a tool. He rolled his eyes at the sunglasses. _What sort of tosser wears sunglasses at night_? he thought. It was his own luck that the man turned down the street in Jennifer’s direction, not his. 

Ianto saw red. He walked as fast as he could back to his car without running. As he drove, he had an iron grip on the wheel as the anger built in him. He parked and slammed the driver’s door. His shoulders were tight when he walked into the Hub, his arms stiff at his sides. Gwen and Fish were the only ones there. He didn’t say hello or ask where Jack was. Instead of the autopsy bay, he walked down the east stairs completely ignoring them. Once he was inside his old office, he locked the door - something he never did. He sat down and scrubbed at his face. He tossed his PDA onto the table a little harder than he should’ve and plugged it into his laptop. 

The first thing he did was download the audio file of Jennifer’s conversation. He enhanced it, removed all the background noise and listened. He couldn’t believe what a mug he’d been. _All warfare is based on deception_ … He leaned back in his chair with his wrist resting on the edge of the table. He rocked back and forth, trying to dispel some of his nervous energy. _No good deed_ … he thought with bitterness. 

He replayed every moment he’d spent with Jennifer since he’d seen her on the Plass. By the time he was done, he was seething. He wanted to throw the laptop and the PDA across the room. How could he have been so foolish? He felt humiliated. He’d never thought someone would use a pre-born to stalk a potential target. The whole point of utilising mortals was to eliminate the possibility of being sensed by one’s target. Ianto had to admit it was clever. He’d dismissed her because of her pre-born status and the rapport it had kindled. It had been an error and it made him mad, mostly at himself. Miranda’s words rang in his ears. _An attack made in anger is an attack that has already failed…_ These people were after his head. He needed to calm the fuck down, and think about this before he made a deadly mistake. 

He leaned back in his chair. His hands came up, running through his hair roughly as he let out a frustrated sigh. The team was short. There was no way he could take some time. Even if he did, what would he do? Run? No, this was his comeuppance for Carl Brogen. Ianto already knew that Miranda had intercepted several challenges for him but now she wasn’t here. It didn’t matter. Ianto preferred it this way. He’d felt terribly that his teacher had been defending him. He needed to stand on his own two feet. 

 _Know your enemy…_ Ianto had all of Torchwood at his disposal and he decided to use it. He accessed the security cameras and fed the images into the facial recognition database. He played back the conversation, listening to each sentence and phrase carefully. He could have made plenty of assumptions but assumptions were what had gotten him into this in the first place. A lot of ideas and thoughts bombarded him, one after another, in no particular order with no real cohesiveness. He pushed them aside and started to think about it logically. What did he know? 

Their conversation strongly suggested Jennifer knew she was a pre-born. It was the only real ‘truth’ that Ianto could think of. This Perry, whoever the fuck he was, had done something for her and her family. He appeared to be using that as a means of coercion but she was complicit enough that he allowed her to go off on her own. They could have been doing this for a long time. He could have promised her immortality when this was all over. Ianto shook his head. His facts had just deteriorated into assumptions again. 

The simplest option was just to let this play out and handle himself when the time came. It wasn’t without its risks and in the Game, risks meant you could die. The only way he was going to get answers was to question one of them. The only person he could get close to was Jennifer and Ianto felt his stomach twist a bit. He was well skilled in getting people to communicate the answers he wanted with both savoury and unsavoury methods. His stomach twisted at the thought of harming Jennifer and Ianto sighed. She’d already done it. She’d formed a bond with him, just like they’d planned. He needed to remember she was trying to kill him, whether an unwilling participant or not. 

The facial recognition program beeped, spitting out more information than Ianto thought it would. _Perry Kent…_ He read the name twice and the long list of aliases and then scrubbed at his face. Miranda wasn’t here to offer any advice. Duncan had no memory of being his teacher. Would it seem strange for him to ring him and ask his advice? He and Methos were in Paris, at their barge. At least, that’s where Ianto thought they were. It wasn’t a large time difference. He picked up his mobile but hesitated. Instead of ringing the Highlander, Ianto dialed Henry.


	4. Chapter 4

Ianto rang the bell and waited for Henry to buzz him into the building. He opened the door and took the lift up. The moment he felt the pressure squeezing his temples, he unbuttoned his coat and reached for his sword even though he was still in the lift. He was going to visit a friend, but Miranda had taught them both to be more cautious than that. It wasn’t just his teacher’s warnings repeating back at him, his current situation had him on edge. Once he stepped out of the lift, Henry already had the door open, waiting for him. His own sword was in hand. He smiled and waved Ianto inside. 

“Drink?” Henry asked. He turned towards the liquor cupboard without waiting for Ianto to respond. 

“Please,” he said, sitting down. He leaned his sword against the sofa and sat down so he was facing the door. He closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face. 

“Whiskey?”

“Please. Straight up,” Ianto answered. 

Henry fixed the drinks and walked back to the sofa. Ianto took the offered glass, sipping it. It was very good. “Thanks.” 

“What was so urgent, my boy?” he asked, sitting down opposite him. 

Ianto took the file folder out of his bag and put it down. “Someone’s stalking me. His name’s Perry Kent.” 

Henry’s eyes went wide. He reached for the folder. “I’ve heard of him.”

“You know him?” Ianto asked, surprised. 

“No, I said I’ve heard of him. Very few of us head hunt on a full time basis. It is wise to keep track of such people. I know Kent is one of them,” Henry said, flipping through the information. He tapped the paper. “I thought he was living in America.” 

“Wanted in Louisiana on charges of theft and fraud,” he said. He reached over and flipped the paper. “Florida, Illinois, Virginia… The list goes on.” 

“Our immortality makes criminal activity easier. Shedding identities is common place. Many of us are accustomed to an almost gypsy-like existence,” Henry said. He spread the papers out in front of him. “I have never heard of this woman though and there are few women in the Game of significant age. It is likely she is young and new, possibly Kent’s student.” 

“She’s not immortal… yet,” Ianto said. 

“A pre-born?” Henry said, raising an eyebrow. 

“He’s using her.” Ianto took out his PDA and played the enhanced recording for him. After he was done listening, Henry leaned back with his drink, crossing his legs. He looked uncomfortable. 

Very slowly, he said, “Despite Kent’s less than honourable methods, you know, I cannot help you to eliminate him.” 

“I’m not asking for your help, Henry. I’m asking for your advice,” he replied. 

“Perry Kent, and others like him, are misogynists of the worst kind, lad. They use the wiles of women to their advantage. They obtain the cooperation of these unfortunate souls either through fear or manipulation or both.” He sipped his drink. “Women do not do well in the Game. Mao-Lin, and others like her, are rare exceptions. We are the physically stronger sex.”

“Mandy’s stronger than I am,” Ianto pointed out. 

Henry shook his head. “A factor of her age and numerous quickenings, nothing more. When one reaches a certain age and place on the scoreboard, one’s strength and endurance plateau. Mao-Lin has reached that point. A male immortal of similar age and head count would be stronger than her. I do not say this to be chauvinist. It is a basic fact of human biology. A man can manoeuver his way through the Game with brute force and skill. A woman requires those things, yes, but it is not enough. She must also beguile and make greater use of trickery.” 

“I know I have to kill him,” Ianto said, coldly. “But what about Jennifer? What do I do with her?” 

“I would be wary of her involvement. It does appear as if Kent is coercing her in some manner. I do not wish to sound cruel or heartless, but the Game is survival of the fittest,” Henry said, sadly. “Even if he has not told her the entire truth, she has witnessed it through assisting him in his headhunting. Her desire to use Kent for protection rather than learning to survive and protect herself on her own speaks to her character… and her weakness. Rescuing her from one usurper may not save her. True, she is not one of us yet, but it is a common strategy for women to find men who will protect them in exchange for… certain services. Do not put it past a woman to use… every means at her disposal… to ensure her survival.” 

Ianto felt his stomach turn a bit at the implications. He wondered if it was a willing choice or whether some felt there was no other way. He scrubbed at his face again. He tried to weigh his other options. “Have you ever taught someone?” 

A disgusted look flashed across Henry’s face for a moment. He sipped his drink. “The decision to teach others the sword is a deeply personal one. I have never chosen to take on a student, nor will I ever do so. Our circumstances? The Game? I find it a cruel trick. I exist within it because I have little choice in the matter. I refuse to perpetuate it by accepting a student.” He bent forward and picked up his broadsword, leaning against his chair. He rested his hand on the cross guard. “Taking on a student is an immense responsibility. Teachers do not provide only sword training, they are expected to provide protection. It is noble that you wish to help her but you are still young, low on the scoreboard and, therefore, inexperienced. I’m certain Mao-Lin would also advise you against this course of action.” 

Henry took Ianto’s glass from him and got up to refresh both their drinks. Before he could begin pouring, his mobile let out a ding. It was a text from Fish. He turned and said, “Joe is on his way home. He should be here shortly.” 

“Cachu,” Ianto muttered. He shrugged into his coat and secured his sword. “I should go.” 

Henry reached out his hand. “I hope I’ve helped. You know you may call upon me at any time.” 

“You have,” he replied, gripping the hand firmly. “I know it goes without saying-”

“But I will say nothing of your situation to Joe,” Henry said, nodding. He opened the door and Ianto stepped into the hallway. 

“I just don’t want Jack to find out,” Ianto said, grateful. 

“I also do not wish to cause Joe undue worry. Another immortal in the city means we are all at risk.” 

Ianto nodded. “Do you think we should warn Rosen and Connelly?” 

“Often the Game is every man for himself. Rosen will have to watch his own back,” he replied with a slight shake of his head. He said flatly, “And Oren Connelly is dead.” 

Ianto didn’t ask anymore questions. He could guess what had happened to Connelly. He just nodded at Henry, thanked him again and left. He had a lot to think about as he walked home. Talking to Henry hadn’t helped as much as Ianto had thought it would. It had served more to organise his thoughts and calm down his initial shock. 

He knew exactly how his teachers would handle the situation. They would be at opposite ends of the equation. The good and noble Duncan would rescue Jennifer from Kent and take her under his wing. On the other hand, cold and calculating, Miranda wouldn’t want to leave any hint of threat and would eliminate them both. Henry would be in the middle, choosing the course that led to as little fighting as possible. He’d take Kent’s head but would likely leave Jennifer to fend for herself. So, he knew how they would handle this situation but the real question was how would he? 

There was no doubt of what needed to happen to Perry Kent. Ianto wasn’t conflicted about that at all. He needed to die and Ianto needed to live. The real dilemma was Jennifer. Obviously, the safest course of action was to kill her and take her head too once she revived. Ianto wasn’t sure that was a path he could live with, especially since whether or not she was a willing participant of this deceptive scheme was uncertain. The reasons and options went round and round in his head, and by the time he stepped up onto the invisible lift, Ianto realised there was a very relevant opinion he hadn’t collected. He stepped off the paving stone and walked towards the railing to where his Shawn Graham was standing.

“Evening, Shawn,” he said, smiling. 

“Ianto,” Shawn replied, shifting nervously. He looked left and then right. Before Ianto could even say anything else, he said, “You know I wish I could tell you something, man, but my hands are tied. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t blame Shawn for leaping to that conclusion. He’d asked the young Watcher many times over the past six months to deliver some message - _any_ message - to Miranda and he’d always refused. They’d exchanged some strong words on the subject more than once. Ianto quickly corrected, “This isn’t about Mandy.” 

“I can’t tell you anything about Kent either,” Shawn said, frustrated. 

“I wasn’t going to ask about him, mate,” Ianto assured. He sighed and said, “I want to know about Jennifer.” 

“The familiar?” he asked, crinkling his brow. 

Ianto nearly smirked at what must be a Watcher term. Shawn shifted nervously again. Technically, Jennifer wasn’t an immortal of the Game yet and her involvement with Kent was a very grey area but still Shawn held back. “Ianto… I shouldn’t.” 

He replied, simply, “Quid pro quo, Shawn.” 

“Age before beauty,” he quipped. Shawn and Ianto may look physically the same age, but because Ianto was an immortal of the Game, Shawn was actually several years younger. 

Ianto tossed his only card on the table and said, “Jennifer’s a pre-born.”  

He’d given Shawn a key piece of information. If the Watchers put someone on Jennifer now, they would have a complete chronicle on her including her first death. Even in this modern era, that was a rarity. There were tens of thousands of immortals moving through the Game but the Watchers didn’t know about all of them. Immortals were generally not discovered until they began instruction and sometimes not even then. Now, Shawn was in a real bind. If Ianto wanted information that was interference, it would put Shawn in a difficult position. 

Shawn would never tell Ianto, but he was actually assigned to him as a punishment. The wanker whom he’d been watching before had done nothing but try to shake him at every turn. After a year in London, he’d managed to slip out of the city without Shawn realising. The Watchers still had no idea where he was. Matchmaking had assigned him to Ianto, an easier mark. It had been a serious demotion. Ianto had surprised Shawn with his friendliness. Like all Watchers, Shawn had been warned about the dangers of getting involved and getting too close but field work was never as simple and straightforward as training. Shawn had liked Ianto immediately. At first, he’d thought it was a shame that they couldn’t be friends but Ianto had eschewed the rules and reached out. The kindness was genuine. So Shawn decided to show some in return. 

“What do you want to know?” Shawn asked. 

“How did she end up helping Perry Kent?”

Relieved that was all Ianto wanted to know, Shawn reached behind him and took out his mobile. He tapped the appropriate app. He raised the phone to his eye so it could scan his retina, then he brought up Kent’s chronicle. He read a few paragraphs and said, “Jennifer met Kent while she was working at some dive bar in the middle of no where US of A. Right after her father was killed in a car wreck - drunk driving - they started head hunting together. That was about six months ago.” He scrolled with his finger. “We highly suspect Kent facilitated her father’s death, nothing that’ll hold up in a court, mind you. Two months before, her mother was in the ER with a broken cheekbone, a concussion, bruised ribs and a snapped wrist.” He gave Ianto a sarcastic look and made quotes in the air with his fingers. “She said she’d 'fallen down the stairs.'” 

“Wanker,” Ianto muttered under his breath. 

Shawn nodded. “When she started helping Kent, we did some more digging. It wasn’t the first time. Jennifer and her brother and their Mom have been in and out of the hospital for years.” 

“Never investigated?” Ianto asked. 

“We never looked into it that far,” Shawn replied. He continued to scroll, reading a few things that he shouldn’t… _couldn’t_ … repeat to Ianto. 

“Thanks, Shawn. I know you’re bending rules for me,” Ianto said. He reached out and shook Shawn’s hand. 

“Ianto? Be careful, man.” Shawn hated this. He liked Ianto. He clenched his jaw, pressing his lips together and then sighed. “They’ve gotten like eight heads in six months.” 

What Shawn was telling him about Jennifer wasn’t considered interfering but what he’d just said was. Ianto appreciated the gesture more than Shawn probably realised. “I’ll let you know in advance what I decide to do with Jennifer. Pint when this is all over? It’s on me.” 

Ianto nodded, turned and walked away. Shawn sincerely hoped his friend made it out of this but a lump began to form in his throat as he continued to read Kent’s chronicle.


	5. Chapter 5

After he’d talked to Shawn, Ianto’d taken the invisible lift down into the Hub. He’d gone through his nightly routine - automatic and mechanical. He’d climbed into bed next to Jack but he hadn’t been able to sleep. While he’d laid awake beside his husband, listening to him snore, he’d decided that the only way to come to any decision about what to do with Jennifer was to get more information. Shawn had given him some but it wasn’t enough. Certainly not enough on which to base a decision about someone’s life. 

He had only two avenues before him. He could let the scenario play out, discovering as it went, or he could to talk to Jennifer. They both had signficant risk. Just as Ianto had finally fallen asleep out of exhaustion, he’d decided the risk was fairly equal. When he woke up, groggy and unfocused, he was still of two minds. In fact, he’d spent more of today mulling it over as he worked. If Jack or any of the others noticed how distracted he was, none of them said. 

Since he’d used his free time falling into Jennifer and Kent’s trap, Ianto hadn’t finished his errands and now he was completely out of clean shirts. He also needed to buy food for the residents of the Hub, human and otherwise. He’d given Myfanwy her last mutton leg this morning. He could no longer put off either errand. With the dry cleaning and the food stowed in the SUV, Ianto started back for the Hub. He was surprised he hadn’t seen Jennifer. She seemed to be a master of the serendipitous meeting. The Hub was empty and he assumed that the others must be seeing to a rift alert. The spike must not have been too large, because he saw Jack sitting behind his desk. After dumping the mutton into the freezer, he left the groceries in the kitchen to put away later. He didn’t want the shirts to wrinkle. When he walked into Jack’s office, he said, “They managed to get that jam stain out.” 

When Jack didn’t answer him, Ianto looked up from hanging the shirts on the coat tree. He was staring intently at the screen of his laptop. 

“Jack?” he asked. He furrowed his brow and scolded, “Jack, what have I told you about watching porn when the others are seeing to a spike?” 

At that, Jack looked up and said, “We have a visitor.”

Ianto walked around Jack’s desk. He was watching the feed from the camera outside the Tourist Office. It was Jennifer. 

In the beginning, he and Jack had had a purely physical arrangement. They hadn’t wanted anything more from each other than a satisfying orgasm… or five. But now Jack was his husband. Going from part time shag to intimate life partner had been a difficult transition. Truth and openness had come to their relationship slowly and painfully. So it was with a significant amount of guilt and remorse that Ianto opened his mouth and lied his arse off. 

“Probably just a tourist,” he said, dismissively. 

“She’s been out there on and off all day. Little strange for a tourist to keep coming back,” Jack said.

Ianto pressed his lips together for a fraction of a second. This was the only place in the city Jennifer knew, for certain, he would be. It made sense that she’d return but he couldn’t tell Jack that. He continued his ruse. 

“There aren’t hours posted,” he said, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “American most likely. Dim sort. Remember that American couple that kept asking me where in England they could find Scotland?” 

“I can go see what she wants,” Jack said, nodding towards the hanging shirts, “so you can put those away.” 

“They’re fine there,” Ianto said, shrugging. He started for the invisible lift. “I’ve got it.” 

His concern over Kent and Jennifer’s deception was now pushed into the background. His more immediate problem was how to handle Jennifer without Jack noticing. He could tell his husband was already suspicious. This whole situation was testing his creative PR skills. He decided to take the invisible lift up and go the long way round. The decision piqued Jack’s curiosity. Ianto could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head and hear the wheels in Jack’s head turning, listing question after question. 

Ianto would deal with Jack and his questions later. He didn’t have time for them now. Staying alive had to be his main priority. He needed to get to Jennifer before she left. Each time he tried to work out what to say to Jennifer, thoughts of Jack intruded into his mind. Ianto gave himself several mental slaps. By the time he’d gone up the lift and gotten to the ramp that led down to the Tourist Office, she’d grown tired and waiting and was walking away. He rounded the corner faster than he wanted to. He tried to act surprised to see her which wasn’t hard since he’d nearly walked straight into her. 

“Jennifer?” he asked.

She gave him a wide smile. “Hi!”

“Guess it wasn’t goodbye after all,” he said with a tight smile. He took a few steps to his left, blocking the path back to the Plass. He looked over her shoulder at the camera pointed at the Tourist Office door. They were just outside the CCTV camera’s view. “Why don’t we have a walk?” 

She looked over her shoulder at the Tourist Office door. “Don’t you need to go to work?” 

Ianto could’ve continued to dance around his purpose but his anger won over. It probably wasn’t a great idea but impulsively, he said, “Actually, I thought we could have a chat about Perry Kent.” 

Fear widened her eyes and she went to run past him. He grabbed her arm. “Oh, no, you don’t!”  

She struggled, slapping and punching at his arm and chest. “Stop. Lemme go! Lemme go or I’ll scream rape!” 

He was too worked up and angry to really care whether or not she yelled. He was Torchwood. He could deal with any local police involvement. He decided to step things up a bit. He reached behind his back and pulled his gun. He pointed it at her. “We _are_ going to have that chat.” 

She let out a startled cry and let out a feeble babble, “No, no. No, no, no. Please… not yet… no, no…” She was begging and pleading. The tears welled up and Ianto saw how afraid she was. She thought he was going to kill her. 

He lowered the gun and said, “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

She gave the gun a fearful look and hissed, “All evidence to the fucking contrary.” 

He grabbed her arm and began dragging her down the quay. It only took him a few minutes to get to the closest holy ground which was the Norwegian Church. Even in the winter, it was a busy tourist attraction and he felt Jennifer relax a bit. He obviously wasn’t going to murder her in front of witnesses. He found a quiet section just outside the building.  

“Talk,” he snapped. 

At least she did him the courtesy of not lying. Instead, she launched into an angry confession that was more of a babbling tirade. 

“What do you want me to say? That I was fucking stupid? That I was tired of my Daddy beating on my Momma and my kid brother and when Perry offered me a way out I fucking took it,” she said, waving her hands out to the side. Her voice began to rise dangerously. “That he killed my Daddy and now he fucking owns me. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Keep your voice down,” he said, looking around. 

She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “I don’t care anymore. He’s made every minute of the last six months worse than any of the years my Daddy spent drinking.” 

“He promised you something,” he replied. 

She let out a scoff. “He promised me something.” 

Ianto wondered if she was unconsciously mirroring Kent’s mimicry. 

“Think about how it looked from my end, will you?” Jennifer hissed. “All I ever wanted to do was get the hell of that shit town. I didn’t wanna be some diner waitress like my Momma and get married to some piece of redneck trash so I could pop out a half dozen kids and get tied down my whole life. I wanted to be able to live. You think I wanted… this? Do you think I want him to… to… If he… if he… kills me… You think this is how I wanna spend eternity?” She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 

Ianto couldn’t help it. He felt sorry for her. “You still have a choice.” 

She let out a laugh of disbelief. “A choice…” 

Henry had said he would never take on a student of his own and Ianto had been on the fence about that idea until now. Henry was right. He was young and inexperienced. His teachers had done so much for him, even if Duncan didn’t remember any of it. Ianto didn’t believe himself qualified for the enormous responsibility but he’d spent his whole life trying to help people. He’d even given his mortal life for it. So it was practically instinct when he stepped forward and said, “Let me help you.” 

“Swap one set of chains for another? No fucking thanks,” she said, bitterly, shrinking away from him.  

While Ianto was considered a student of Chen Mao-Lin, it wasn’t really the whole truth of it. Ianto considered himself a student of both immortals. Each of them sat on his shoulder, Duncan on his right and Miranda on his left. Miranda whispered in his ear, the snake hissing at him, but there was also Duncan’s voice - his conscience. They were both telling him the same thing, that there was one thing he’d neglected in all this. 

He asked, “What do you want?” 

“I want to go home,” she said. Her bottom lip began to tremble and then she put her hands over her face and started to cry. 

He stepped forward and put his arm around her. In a soothing voice, he said, “Then I’m going to get you there.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ianto took the invisible lift back down to the main Hub. Jennifer had given him her mobile number along with the name of her hotel and the room number. Deciding her fate had had him twisted up, weighing and debating his options but she’d managed to make the decision for him. She didn’t want any part of the Game. All she wanted to do was to go back to America, back to her old life and take her chances. If she died and joined the Game, then so be it. But if she could live out her life then she would. 

He envied her the choice. Sometimes, when the mood struck him, Ianto wondered what he would’ve done, if he’d known the truth. He’d play out different scenarios in his head but he always arrived at the same conclusion. If he’d known the truth from the beginning, things would still have turned out as they had. Torchwood virtually guaranteed him an early death that would be both violent and unnatural. There was nothing that would’ve convinced Ianto to leave Torchwood. Though sometimes, he indulged in a little fantasy. He imagined that, after learning the truth, that he and Jack had left together, to live out the rest of his life in peace. Sometimes it was a long mortal life at a quiet seashore in Wales he imagined, and sometimes it was an eternity together among the stars, far away from Earth and the Game. 

He shook off the flight of fancy and crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He tried to think as the lift descended. He needed to formulate a plan to get him and Jennifer out of this. Of course, he still needed to be wary. Jennifer could just as easily go back to Kent and tell him everything. The only way for Ianto to know he could trust her was to do so. It was a gamble, and in the Game when you gambled, you did it with your life. Still, there was a niggling voice in his head and this deep feeling in his gut that said killing her wasn’t the right thing to do yet. If she was immortal and conspiring with Kent, that would be a horse of a different colour. For now, she was a mortal whose only trespass against him was a bit of lying and to Ianto that wasn’t a reason to kill her.

“Ianto! My office!” 

Jack frequently bellowed across the Hub for Ianto’s attention. Ianto winced at his tone. The snapped out command drew nervous looks from the others. It might sound like an every day shout but over time the team had learned the subtle variations in Jack’s voice. They’d figured out which ones meant a quickie over Jack’s desk and which ones meant a spectacular domestic was on the horizon. They all recognised this as the latter. Fish had flinched, awkwardly flicking his eyes from Jack’s office to Ianto and back again. He turned back to his work, trying to disappear into the piece of tech in front of him. Gwen was also looking as if she wanted to crawl into the tile. Ianto took off his woolen coat, draping it over Fish’s desk chair and took out his sword. At first, walking around with the weapon had also drawn stares that he’d ignored but the sword wasn’t the reason they were staring this time. He straightened his tie and strode across the Hub with the blade in his hand, ignoring them. He opened Jack’s door and stepped through, closing it behind him. After he’d become immortal, he’d hung a variety of hooks all over the Hub where he could hang his sword. One set of these hooks was next to Jack’s office door. He hung the sword, settling it into the hooks harder than he needed to. Jack had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring out the office window. 

“Jack…” he began.

“Don’t,” Jack interrupted. “You lied to me.” 

“Yes.” 

Jack didn’t turn around, disappointed Ianto hadn’t apologised for the dishonesty straight away. He tried to steady his voice but there was an uncertainty in it as he asked, “Is she after you?” 

“Someone she’s working for. She’s mortal, caught in the crossfire,” he answered. He took a few tentative steps further into the room but Jack still didn’t turn around. “I’m taking care of it.” 

He finally turned around and the disappointment Ianto saw in his eyes broke his heart. “You don’t need to lie to me, Ianto.” 

“If I told you the truth about who she was, you would’ve bombarded me with questions that I didn’t have time to answer right then. I had to talk to her before she left,” he insisted. He put his hands into his pockets. He still hadn’t apologised for lying and it was dawning on Jack that he wasn’t going to because he wasn’t sorry. “You can ask me whatever you like now.” 

“Thanks for the permission,” Jack said, sarcastically. 

“Jack, I don’t want to quarrel,” he replied, calmly. He sat down on the edge of the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “There’s no way round this. Unless I want to hide away like a monk, there are going to be challenges.”

Jack said bitterly, “If Will were here-”

“I’ve told you, I won’t let Mandy step in for me anymore. This is my fight.” 

Jack walked around his desk and leaned against it next to his husband, their arms pressed together. “No more lies, Yan.” 

After a small sigh, Ianto told Jack all he knew about Jennifer and Kent. Jack sniffled, wiping his nose. As they talked, he crossed and uncrossed his legs at the ankle. It was a nervous fidget. Jack was a man of action. It wasn’t in him to stand idly by and do nothing. 

Ianto’s inevitable demise was something Jack had never wanted to face. In fact, he’d never really dealt with it and Ianto’s new immortality had provided an escape. It was easy for him to forget that Ianto’s immortality was different than his own even with the sword Ianto carried with him everywhere as a constant reminder. Ianto was still on borrowed time. The Game was more of an extension on a loan that would come due eventually.  

He’d already cocked things up when he’d helped kill Carl Brogen by throwing Ianto his sword after it’d been clear Brogen was about to kill him. Through a combination of cunning and personal sacrifice, Miranda had managed to keep that fact hidden from the Watchers but that organisation and its chronicles weren’t the only sources of information. People talked and immortals all over the world were making their own assumptions about how a fledgling had managed to take a head so quickly after his first death. Some assumed Ianto had cheated and had come to police their own. Others had wished to test themselves against someone talented. Miranda had dealt with these challenges swiftly, interceding for her friend and student. She’d tried to hide it from them but they’d known. Ianto was certain her actions only added credibility to his label of cheat. If he didn’t defeat someone on his own, legitimately, and soon, he would be in more danger. Jack had been grateful for the protection because he was guilty. He’d wondered how long it would be before someone showed up while Miranda was away. It wouldn’t matter how much Ianto protested. Miranda would’ve intercepted the challenge and kept Ianto from harm. But the immortal woman wasn’t here and no one had any idea when she would return. As Jack continued to listen, staring down at their feet, all he could think about was how he wished Miranda was still here. 

This thing with Ianto? It was so new and he didn’t just mean the Game. He’d been in love before and he’d made commitments before but Ianto was just different. He twisted Jack up inside in ways he never thought possible. When Ianto was in danger, Jack couldn’t think straight and the more Ianto talked, the more Jack tried to fight back his instincts to protect him. It didn’t help that Ianto wasn’t holding back. He was telling Jack everything he’d learned and suspected. It did nothing to assuage Jack’s worry, only intensifying it. Several times, Jack had to stop himself from interrupting him.

Jack had never told Miranda, but after they’d married in the twenties, he’d bought their house in Caernarfon to get her out of Cardiff. He didn’t think she was safe in a city with an active rift. The separation and the lies that surrounded it had been a large part of their relationship’s breakdown. He couldn’t let that happen here. Ianto was already starting to feel like he needed to keep secrets from him and lie. And this was a path that led nowhere good. He reigned in his worry and panic. He fisted his protectiveness, trying to choke it into submission. 

When Ianto had finished speaking, Jack said, “I’m not as obtuse as Will thinks I am, Yan. I get this is how it is. I don’t like it but I never liked you being in the field either.” He shifted again, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I like you lying to me the least.” 

“Jack…” Ianto groaned. 

“You need to give me a chance, Yan. You need to talk to me and not shut me out.”

“Jack…” Ianto groaned again. “Half a bloody century, you’ve dealt with Mandy and her challenges. When Adaf Terfel came after her, you stripped her field status. You nearly blew up an entire operation when you found out Carl Brogen was an immortal. She’s just your friend. I’m your husband.” 

“I’m trying here, Ianto,” Jack said, defensive. 

He had a point there. Ianto did need to give him a chance. When he’d been in the alternate reality, he’d faced his challenges without having to think about anyone but himself. Shutting Jack out was easier. But that wasn’t how marriage worked.

In a low his voice, Jack asked, “Do you think you can win?” 

“I don’t know,” Ianto replied, truthfully. He rubbed at his neck and said, “I’m taking the fact that he’s using Jennifer to mean that he’s probably a poor swordsman. He might need the deception. It might not just be a convenient way to trap opponents.” 

“I wish I could help you,” Jack said. His voice was soft but it was heavy with regret and frustration. He pushed off his desk, walking around it. His back was straight. He might not be able to help Ianto directly, but there were other ways he could help. “If you need time off, take it. We can manage.” 

“I can still do my job, Jack.” Ianto stood up and whirled, defensive. “I don’t need-”

Jack cut him off with a look. “What would Will say to you?” 

Ianto pressed his lips together in a tight line. He recited, “‘Pride can send your head rolling as easily as any blade.’” He took a breath in and then slowly let it out. He nodded. “I may shorten some of my days.” 

“Have Fish call Henry,” Jack said. He sat down at the desk and started to flip through some of the paperwork in front of him. 

Ianto took that to mean the discussion was over. He gave Jack a lot of credit for not overreacting or freaking out completely. He didn’t want to push things, so he turned and left Jack to work. 

The minute his office door was shut, Jack dropped the papers and scrubbed at his face, hard. He pushed back away from his desk and turned in his chair. He watched Ianto put his hand on Fish’s shoulder. The two had a brief conversation and Fish picked up his mobile telephone. Jack twisted his wedding ring and then curled his left hand into a fist. He may have been able to ignore his overprotectiveness for a few minutes but there was one impulse he couldn’t stop. He stood up, took his greatcoat off its hanger and headed for the roof. 


	7. Chapter 7

When Ianto asked Fish to ring Henry to fill in for a bit, he didn’t tell him why. Oh, he could tell Fish had his suspicions but the technician hadn’t asked for explanations and Ianto hadn’t offered any. The last thing Ianto wanted to do was worry his friend. He tried to act innocent about the whole thing and went back to his day. It didn’t take him long to put the shopping away. Once that was done, he went down into the bunker and began separating his shirts from Jack’s. He closed the wardrobe and climbed the ladder. He hadn’t seen Jack since their little chat and assumed his husband was up on the roof. Jack’s understanding had pleasantly surprised Ianto, but he knew this whole thing was twisting Jack up in knots. He’d be warring against his instincts to protect Ianto while, at the same time, not wanting to upset him with overprotectiveness. He could only fight that overprotectiveness for so long and what would help Jack do that the best would be him up on the roof. 

Ianto sighed. With the dry cleaning sorted, he decided to do a bit of tidying. He took out a bin liner, walking around emptying the bins and picking up after everyone. Ever since Ianto had become the team’s medic, most of the tidying and cleaning had fallen to a team rota. He felt badly but he simply didn’t have the time to keep up with it all on his own. The Hub was clean but it wasn’t up to Ianto’s exacting standards. So, sometimes - like now - he returned to his old duties. The automatic act of cleaning would let him think as he worked. He settled into the kitchen to do the washing up. He intended to figure out his next move but all he managed was to think about how everything was affecting Jack and his work. In the alternate universe, he’d never had this problem. He hated to think of Jack and Torchwood as a distraction but that’s what they were right now. He looked up when he felt pressure between his temples. Henry was walking through the cogwheel door. The Duke was always willing to help them. In fact, while Gwen had been on leave, he’d been helping them so often that Ianto had insisted they provide him with keys and access codes. After kissing Fish on the cheek, Henry turned towards the kitchen. Ianto poured some bleach into the mugs to rid them of their stains. 

“Ianto,” Henry said with a tight smile. 

He only nodded in response, wiping some of the bleach off the worktop to avoid ruining his suit. 

“You’ve learned more?” Henry asked.

There was a time when Ianto would’ve simply answered Henry’s question without asking any of his own. He’d heard the tiny amount of forced calm in his voice. Henry was trying a little too hard to sound nonchalant. Ianto looked him up and down out of the corner of his eye and then returned to his task. 

When Ianto had first met Miranda, he’d been mortal and shown up, uninvited, at her home. It had been a strange thing, meeting someone who’d once been married to the person he loved. Miranda had tried to explain what an incredible gift it was to have a long lived companion without the Game tainting that relationship. Now, Ianto understood what she meant. He’d run to Henry for advice but, strategically, it had been an error. He’d tipped Henry off to a threat. In fact Henry, himself, was also a threat. He hated treating his friend with suspicion but Ianto always needed to remember that Henry Fitzroy was an immortal of the Game, same as he. He wished they could work together, to eliminate the threat of Perry Kent together… but the Game didn’t work that way. This wasn’t doubles tennis. 

Ianto rinsed the mugs and shook the water from them before turning them upside down onto a tea towel. He didn’t look up when he said, “I won’t do your research for you, Henry.” 

Henry cleared his throat slightly and clasped his hands behind his back. “I do apologise.” He waved at his back at the Hub. “Your avenues of information are more diverse than mine. Mao-Lin would be proud of you for realising.” 

“I’m not,” he said, honestly and with distaste. He rinsed his hands and dried them. What he was about to say left a bad taste in his mouth. “We know how this works, Henry. If Kent decides I’m more trouble than I’m worth, he could shift his focus. If he kills you, that’s one less sword I need to worry about.” 

“It is advantageous for me to do the same, to allow you to flounder and fail,” Henry replied. He leaned against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest. “But that is not the kind of men we are, Ianto. I do not presume to tell you how to move within the Game but the Gathering is far in the future. Our numbers are growing, not shrinking. Another opponent will always rise up in Kent’s place. You and I do not play the Game for the prize. My intention was to protect myself without undermining you. You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Until the Gathering,” Ianto muttered. 

Henry had strong feelings about the Game. He believed the same as the Watchers did, that there was profound purpose in it. Tucked away in the back of his mind was a very short list of immortals for whom he had the utmost respect - people he knew to be pure of heart and spirit, honourable, noble and just. Without any aspiration for the prize himself, Henry considered it his duty to lay down his sword and kneel before them, making his quickening a donation to aid in their survival. And the name Ianto Jones was at the top of his list.

He turned towards the Welshman and put fatherly warmth into his voice. “My husband is under your daily protection and for that I am eternally grateful. You’re more than my friend, Ianto. You are a brother to me. I did not think it required saying, but you have nothing to fear from me. On my head, I’m not, nor shall I ever be, your enemy.”

Guilt rose in his throat. Ianto was already trusting someone who’d lied to him but was treating a good friend, a man who thought him a brother, with suspicion. The sour tasted in his mouth deepened. 

“I know,” he said, quietly. Then he repeated, in a stronger voice, “I know.” 

He glanced over Henry’s shoulder to make sure Fish was still engrossed in his work. He said, “I took a risk. I talked to Jennifer.”

“A difficult gamble, but the only way to gain more information,” Henry said, lowering his voice. He furrowed his brow. “Is she truly an unwilling participant?” 

“Not at first,” he replied. “Kent swindled her. Think about how what we are looks to someone on the outside who’s having a rough go of it?” 

Henry nodded. “If certain details were omitted… others glorified…” He crossed his arm over his chest, his other elbow was bent and resting on his wrist. He hooked his index finger over his top lip as he leaned against the counter again. He said, “She would not understand.” 

“I don’t think she knew what she was getting herself into. She’s in over her head.”

“It could be a ruse,” Henry pointed out. 

“She’s afraid of Kent,” he said. He put his hands into his pockets, leaning against the counter next to his friend. “The fear seems genuine.” 

“As she should be,” Henry replied with a nod. “Women are nothing but disposable commodities to men like this. When she ceases to be useful, he will kill her and replace her.” 

“Quantity over quality,” Ianto said, mostly to himself. He was repeating something he’d heard Miranda say once. 

Henry nodded slowly. “Many amongst us believe that a head is not worth the risk unless the quickening is substantial. Mao-Lin’s paranoia can be misleading. One’s strategy within the Game varies greatly. Most of us are passive, fighting only as needed. We go about our lives, trying to live as normally as we can. Though there are some of us who head hunt on a full time basis, such activity is dangerous.” 

“Were you ever more active?” Ianto asked. 

Henry shook his head. “Against Mao-Lin’s advice, I have only ever fought to defend myself.” 

Ianto straighted up and put his hand on Henry’s arm. “Wait a minute. She told you to go out and head hunt?” 

He nodded and replied, “She did.” 

“I didn’t get that advice.” 

“The world is a different place now,” Henry said, shrugging. “When I was a newborn, one could go years without encountering another of our kind. If one wished to gain experience, one had to search it out. But this is the twenty first century, not the sixteenth. With the advent of modern travel the world is a smaller place. A trip across the Atlantic takes several hours on a plane instead of months at sea. Now, it’s not uncommon to take a head a year. When Mao-Lin was young, if you fought purely in a defensive capacity, you could go centuries without a challenge.” 

“She was always telling me how the Game is different, more dangerous,” Ianto said, shaking his head a bit. “You haven’t heard from her have you?” 

“No. I have made inquiries to the rest of our - for lack of a better word - family. Amunet and Arjun know nothing either but that doesn’t surprise me. Amunet and Mao-Lin have always had a stormy relationship and Arjun,” he gave a bemused smile, “is Arjun.” 

Henry was the only student of Miranda’s that Ianto knew personally. Ianto had only heard of Amunet and Arjun through Henry. He’d never met them. He wondered if he should reach out to them or not. 

“You do not require our teacher to be here to know how she would advise you,” Henry said. 

Ianto shook his head. “No, I don’t. The minute she knew this was a set up, she would’ve killed them both.”

“She would advise you to do so, yes, but Mao-Lin often is the epitome of ‘do as I say, not as I do’,” Henry said, wryly. “I doubt she would murder Miss Richter if she were a true innocent. It would only induct her into the Game.” 

“You know, something’s been bothering me about that. I thought the point of using a mortal like this is to escape detection. Why would someone use a pre-born?” Ianto asked, genuinely confused. 

Henry shrugged. “I, too, am puzzled by his usage of a pre-born. You are correct, such people are often used to stalk a potential opponent without detection. The only possibly explanation I can think is that her pre-born status would create rapport with a potential target. The reason is irrelevant as is the ruse now that you know of its existence. Kent should be your main focus. Miss Richter is superfluous. Has young Mr. Graham provided you with any information? I know that he should not do so…” 

“But some of them do anyway.” Ianto shook his head. “The only thing he’s told me that’s useful is Kent has taken eight heads in six months. His ruse must be working since he’s probably not much of a swordsman.” 

Henry furrowed his brow. “What has led you to that assumption?” 

“He’s using Jennifer to lure men in so he can kill them. I figured he needs the deception to catch his opponents off guard. Element of surprise.” 

A look of warning and slight alarm came over Henry’s face. He said, sternly, “That assumption is dangerous, lad, and likely incorrect. He does so because he can and more likely because he derives twisted enjoyment from it. We may be immortals but we are still human beings with various appetites. Those who headhunt full time are not just killers, they’re thrill seekers. They enjoy the sport of it - the challenge of the hunt. There is also a fine line between trapping others and cheating. Even if he catches them, trousers down so to speak, the ability to sense others of our kind makes any surprise attack truly impossible. Once she lures men in, Kent must still defeat them on his own. The safest assumption is that Kent is, in all likelihood, an extremely skilled swordsman, who is bored and has chosen to add interest and dimension to the chase with this farce.” 

Ianto let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Do not be hard on yourself, my friend. These subtleties are often learned through experience. Do you know the next step in Kent’s plan?” 

Ianto shook his head. He took out his mobile. He sent Jennifer a text, asking her to meet him for breakfast tomorrow at a local cafe. “Not yet, but I’m going to find out.”


	8. Chapter 8

Jennifer’s long ginger hair made her easy to spot. She was sitting at the cafe table, nervously jiggling her leg. The coffee in front of her wasn’t touched. He didn’t need her hair to spot her. Ianto could feel her before he saw her. He walked over to the table smoothly and sat down, giving her a friendly smile. 

“The coffee here is terrible,” Ianto said. 

“I don’t drink coffee. I just felt stupid sitting here and not ordering nothing,” she said, leaning back. She looked around nervously. “He could be watching us, you know.” 

“He could but if he got too close, I’d feel him. That’s why he uses you,” Ianto said. He signaled the server for a coffee. He stared at it for a second, wondering if he could manage to choke it down. It probably wouldn’t do to sit there and not drink what he’d ordered. He sipped it and immediately regretted the decision. He pushed the coffee away and asked, “Do you want something to eat?” 

“You know everyone back home said the food here’d be terrible,” Jennifer said, shaking her head. It was a nervous movement. There was also a slight tremor to her voice. “I told them it was probably just a stupid stereotype and that they should keep an open mind. You know what? They were right.” 

Ianto felt a bit offended on behalf of his heritage. He gave her a sour look.

“Fine, I’ll eat something,” she said. She picked up the coffee and sniffed at it. 

He ordered them both fry ups. When they arrived, Jennifer leaned over her plate and squinted at it. She asked, incredulously, “Are those beans?” 

Ianto nodded. “The coffee here is shite but the food’s good.” 

“Y’all eat beans… for breakfast?”

He nodded again, cutting into his tomato. Jennifer gave a shake of her head and began to pick at the familiar items on her plate, ignoring the beans altogether. 

He stabbed a few mushrooms with his fork and asked, “Have you talked to him?” 

She twirled her bacon around. “No, cos the minute I open my mouth, he’s gonna know. Then, he’s gonna kill you and then he’s gonna kill me,” she whispered. “Or me and then you. Not that the order really matters.”

He picked up his toast, poking it into his egg yolk. “I want to help you, Jennifer, but you have to help me too. How do you two go about this?” 

She didn’t look up at him, just staring down at her food. She pushed it around and started poking at the black pudding as if trying to sort out what it was. “I should’ve realised right away something was wrong. He had a system to it. It was like he’d done it a million times before. Maybe he has…” She put down her fork. She slid her hands under her thighs, sitting on them. It looked like an old habit - one that she was trying to break herself out of. The moment she realised she’d done it, she took her hands back out and started to nervously fiddle with her fork.

The fidgeting was getting on his own nerves and the way she kept looking about was drawing stares from other people. Ianto needed her to calm down. She was acting like a prisoner under interrogation. She nervously dug her fork into her food and accidentally got a mouthful of beans. She looked a little surprised that they were good. Maybe a friendly gesture would get her to relax. He did point a gun at her only yesterday. He reached across and spooned some beans onto her toast. 

“Trust me,” he said, trying to give her a friendly smile. 

She looked at him as he’d just asked her to eat a street sign. She bit into the bean covered toast and she looked surprised. She began to eat with more enthusiasm, relaxing. He decided to back off some. 

“Does your mother know where you are? Your brother?”

“They ain’t worried about me none. Momma thinks Perry and I are driving cross country to California. I told her I wouldn’t call for a while, till we got 

settled.” 

Trying not to sound like a condescending parent, he asked, “How did you get yourself mixed up in all this?” 

She gave a one shouldered shrug and spoke around half a mouthful of food. “Just stupid I guess. I flirted and led guys on all the time working in that dive bar back home for extra tips. It’s the same thing, ain’t it?” She let out a sarcastic scoff and rolled her eyes. “Except no one loses their fucking head in that situation.” 

“Didn’t he tell you about that, did he?” 

“No,” she replied, bitterly. “Sounded like something out of a bad movie. I didn’t believe him. Christ, I almost fucking shit myself when he put my Daddy’s hunting knife through his leg. You should’ve seen me when he…” She shook her head and took a nervous gulp of her coffee. She’d completely forgotten what liquid was in the cup and let out a disgusted noise. Her face twisted in a grimace. She put it down and ate a forkful of her food to get rid of the taste. Ianto got her a glass of water and she gulped some of it down. 

Still holding the water glass up to her face, she said, “He told me I was gonna end up in the Game no matter what, so I may as well learn how it’s played.” She set it down and sighed. She cut her egg up with the side of her fork and began mixing it with the beans. There was only half hearted interest in eating the food, she was just playing with it; fidgeting. “It’s been going way down hill, real fast, ever since. I don’t think I believe him anymore about me. Reckon he was lying his ass off, giving me a line.” 

It was Ianto’s turn to shift nervously. Miranda had kept the secret of his potential immortality for years but this was different. Torchwood guaranteed Ianto an early death, likely violent and unnatural. Jennifer could easily live out her whole mortal life and never join the Game and Kent had already told her the truth. Ianto turned it over in his head. If she did come into play, she needed to be prepared. He let out a soft sigh and looked into his full coffee cup. He tilted it back and forth before looking up. He watched her expression sink with each word he said. 

“Jennifer… Kent… he was telling you the truth.” 

She stared out the window and pressed her mouth into a thin line. She said, bitterly. “Figures. The only thing he was probably telling the truth about.” She stabbed at her food harder than necessary then waved her fork between them. “He’d be pleased as punch, if he was watching. This is right in line with the plan.”

He could tell she was far more comfortable around him than she’d been before. The meek, nervous girl was fading. There was a desperate hint to her voice. She was in survival mode and probably had been most of her life. 

“Tell me the next step,” Ianto asked. 

She set her fork down and sat back. “Not much to tell. It always ends the same. I offer, they accept. Some like the picture with a different background but not many guys’ll turn down some no strings attached fun with a girl they ain’t never gonna see again.” 

“And then Kent attacks,” he said. 

She nodded. “They don’t pay attention to the route when they’re thinking with the downstairs brain. Perry picks somewhere for me to walk them past at night - an abandoned building, an empty lot…” 

“There’s nothing subtle about a sword fight,” Ianto said, pushing his plate away. 

“I don’t watch the play by play,” she said. There was disgust on the edge of her voice. “I stay out of sight with my head down until the lightning show’s over and then Perry and I get the hell out of Dodge. He’s dragged me across half a dozen states and a fucking ocean.” 

“Why didn’t you leave?” he couldn’t help asking. 

“Leave? Are you nuts? I ain’t got nothing but the clothes on my back and a couple of bucks in my pocket that I can’t even use in this country. The passport I used to get here was fake. How far do you think I’d get before he found me?” She looked him up and down, eyeing his suit. “You look like a guy who’s used to having options. I didn’t have a choice and better the devil you know…” 

“Than the devil you don’t,” he finished for her. He said, softly, “I wasn’t always the man in a suit. Believe it or not, I understand.” 

She sat there, silent for a few minutes and then said, “So what are we gonna do?” 

“We’re going to follow the plan.” 

“But we ain’t got a plan,” she said, looking confused. 

“No, but you and Kent do,” he said. 

The idea dawned on her. “You’re gonna turn this around on him, aren’t you?” 

Ianto nodded. “We’re going to let him think everything is fine.” 

And then another idea followed it. “How do I know when all this is over, you’ll let me go?” 

He took a look around and lowered his voice. “You keep saying you didn’t have a choice, Jennifer. Well, now you have one. I’m giving you options. He isn’t.” 

She tapped her fork into her food a bit, considering. She didn’t weigh her options long before saying, “Tell me what you want me to do.” 

And so, Ianto laid out the plan of his own.


	9. Chapter 9

Even though it was still early, Ianto was exhausted. He hadn’t counted on how emotionally draining this all would be. He decided to have a kip before going back to work but gave in to the team’s request for coffee first. With the coffee served, he walked into Jack’s office, headed for the bunker. Jack looked up from his paperwork but immediately returned his attention to it. He was trying his best not to smother his husband, to let him have his space in this. He shifted in his chair, near bursting to ask Ianto what had happened. Ianto descended down into the bunker and Jack couldn’t hold back. He got up and went down the ladder himself. Ianto was getting undressed, his sword leaning against his bedside table. 

He took pity on Jack. Without looking up from unbuttoning his shirt, he said, “Go ahead and ask.” 

“What did she say?” 

“Nothing I didn’t suspect.” He reached into his trouser pocket and took out his PDA. Jennifer hadn’t known, but Ianto had recorded the entire meal. He played the recording and Jack listened to every word. 

He shook his head and said, “She really had no idea what she was getting herself into did she?” 

“Out of the frying pan and straight into the bloody fire,” Ianto said, nodding. “Thank you, by the way.” 

“For what?” Jack asked, confused. 

“For not giving me a gigantic bollocking over all this,” he replied. He turned round and took Jack’s hand. “I was expecting the worst, honestly, and I’m sorry. You’re handling all this in good form and I appreciate it, I really do. You’re right, I should’ve given you more credit.”

Jack didn’t say anything and there was something about the look on his face that made Ianto suspicious. 

“Jack?” he asked, drawing out the ‘a’ slightly. When he didn’t get an answer he snapped out, “Jack!” 

He took his hand back and stepped away. “Okay, I may have had Gwen follow you on the CCTV.” 

Ianto gave him another stern look. 

“And activated the GPS in your phone,” he further admitted. When Ianto narrowed his eyes at him, he blurted, “And had Fish fiddle with the old surveillance program on your PDA.” 

“JACK!” Ianto shouted. 

It was Jack’s turn to shout. “I wasn’t interfering, Yan! I was just keeping an eye on you! It’s not just me! They’re worried about you too!” 

Jack had had him on probationary surveillance after Lisa. There’d been cameras and listening devices in his flat. Tosh had even installed surveillance on his mobile telephone and PDA. Ianto had completely forgotten about the program. This wasn’t the PDA he had had back then. It was a newer model but he’d cloned the old device to transfer the information over. The old program must have transferred with it. He had to give Jack points for being clever but right now he was too cross. He took out his PDA. He found the surveillance software running in the background and disabled it. He brandished the device at his husband. 

“And what is that going to do Jack? Watching me on the CCTV, tracking me or eavesdropping through my PDA isn’t going to make you feel better! It’s going to make things worse!” He dropped the PDA onto the dresser and kicked the bottom drawer out of frustration. “What would you have done if you’d heard me fighting? What then?” 

“I can’t sit here not knowing, Ianto! I can’t!” Jack barked back at him. 

Ianto sighed and kicked the dresser again. “You’re a man of action, Jack. It’s one of the things I love about you, but it’s going to get me killed.” 

Jack was about to open his mouth to say something else but Ianto cut him off. “Do you realise that you have done absolutely nothing to hide what you are? Officials all over the government and UNIT whisper about you behind your back. That greatcoat of yours has been flapping about Cardiff since the forties. Every immortal I’ve met has said so and I agree with them. I don’t know how you haven’t managed to rouse the curiosity of every single immortal in the UK, Europe or the whole bloody world!” He gestured at the mobile. “Think about how this looks to an opponent. It wouldn’t take much digging for them to figure out that you’re immortal too and then it doesn’t look like the concerned spouse. It looks like teamwork, Jack. It looks like cheating.”

“I’m sorry, Yan…” 

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t want to have to do it this way.” 

He grabbed his overnight bag from its place next to the dresser. It was always packed since Miranda was gone and the monthly face-to-face briefings with UNIT were his responsibility. He tossed his mobile next to his PDA. “I’ll be back when this is all over. There’s nothing I can do about you following me on the CCTV.” 

“Ianto, please! Don’t!” Jack pleaded. 

“Do you remember the cemetery when Mandy walked away from us, right before Adaf Terfel almost killed her? Do you remember how focused she was on getting Terfel’s attention away from us? Do you remember how distracting we were? We almost got her killed, Jack. I can’t multitask this.” He walked towards his bedside table and held up the sword. “I can’t focus on this when I’m getting distracted by this.” He waved the sword between him and Jack. He shook his head. “I am an immortal of the Game and I am Ianto Jones, in that order. I’ve done what Mandy’s said, I’ve tried to find my own way. I thought that meant I could share this with you. But I need to do this on my own. When it’s done, when it’s over, I’ll be back, I promise. You always come back to me and I will always come back to you.” 

He put down his bag and sword. He pulled his husband into a tight embrace. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too, Ianto,” he choked. “You don’t have to go.” 

“I do. If I don’t focus all my attention on keeping my head, I might make a mistake that gets me killed. And I want to live.” 

He kissed Jack, deep and long. He embraced him, breathing the fifty first century pheromones he loved so much. With reluctance, he let go. He shouldered his bag, jamming his sword into one of the straps and started for the ladder. Jack’s grip on his fingers was tight. He wouldn’t let go and Ianto climbed the ladder one handed, until distance forced them apart. 

He put his sword into its case and walked straight for the invisible lift, ignoring the nervous looks the others were giving him. He felt like a complete twat for walking away from Jack and leaving him alone, but he needed to get his head on straight, if he was intent on keeping it. He rode the lift up, and started walking in a random direction, acutely aware of Shawn following him. 

He had no idea which way to go, because he had nowhere to go. There was no way he could go to his sister’s. He could go to his old flat but Jack hadn’t removed the surveillance from it, only turned it off and he didn’t trust Jack to not turn it back on anymore. There were a few Torchwood safe houses in and around the city but they all had surveillance too and that was exactly what he was trying to avoid. He pushed back the stab of guilt again at shutting Jack out. He couldn’t think about that now. He had to figure out where he was going. Right now he was out in the open, exposed and vulnerable. He made a quick decision and started walking towards Jennifer’s hotel.

It didn’t take him as long as he’d thought it would. He rapped his knuckles on the door. He waited a few seconds, shifting his weight back and forth. He felt like a real knob. He hadn’t told Jennifer he was popping round and his appearance was likely to startle her. If it wasn’t for the light pressure behind his forehead he’d felt when he’d walked up to the room, he would’ve assumed she wasn’t there. He knocked again, louder this time. He heard the sound of stomping feet and the door opened fast and wide. 

Jennifer was standing in a towel, her ginger hair dripping wet. She looked extremely cross and sounded even more so when she spat, “All right, asshole… Ianto?” 

“Sorry,” he said, casting his eyes away. 

“What’re you doing here?” she asked. Then she saw the bag he was holding and asked, “You and the missus have a fight?” 

He looked down at the bag and shifted. “Sort of.” 

“And you came here?” she asked with disbelief. 

He didn’t have a satisfactory answer for that. “Can I come in?” 

“Uhh, yeah, sorry,” Jennifer said, stepping aside. When she turned away, she adjusted the towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around her. She walked over to her clothes, selecting what to wear. “I wasn’t expecting you or, well, anybody.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about that. I just… I didn’t have anywhere else I could think of to go.” 

“He chuck you out?” she asked, still digging through her suitcase. 

“Sort of,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “I walked out. I know I shouldn’t have done…” 

Without invitation, Ianto sat down on her bed. It was uncharacteristically  rude of him. What was also uncharacteristic was how he began to babble. 

“I know all of this bollocks with the Game is new to him but I thought he could handle it. There are going to be challenges. There’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want to lock myself away on holy ground for all eternity. I thought he’d finally started to understand. He was handling it all so well. So I let him in. I told him what I was planning. I gave him an inch and he took a bloody mile! If he’d just come to me and asked if he could keep half an eye on me, that would’ve been one thing. But he went and just spied on me. Where’s the trust? Activating the GPS in my phone? Having me followed?” He shook his head and, in a gesture much like Fish, dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “If I have to focus on keeping him calm, it distracts me from keeping my head. I can’t keep being pulled in two different directions and I can’t separate the Game from who I am. I had to make a choice and I made the choice that keeps me alive. So I walked away for a bit. It was the right thing to do, yeah?”

She turned around with her eyes wide. Her mouth was a little open and she shut it. “Umm… I’m not really qualified…” 

He waved at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that. I’ve no idea why I did. Forget it.” 

She sat down on the bed next to him. The clothes she’d selected were in her lap. She had one hand on top of them and one below. 

He buried his face in his hands. “Sorry, I’m just being stupid.” 

She put her hand up on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, you have no idea how stupid,” she said, laughing. That laugh sounded a bit evil and before it registered as such, Jennifer whipped her arm around and buried a syringe in his shoulder. She backed away quickly. He grabbed at the towel but his legs felt like lead. 

“Well, maybe now you do.”


	10. Chapter 10

Ianto slowly opened his eyes. The groggy feeling of drugs still hadn’t completely left his system. All he was aware of was the fact that he was cold, stiff and laying on the floor. He shifted. His legs were bound at the ankles and his hands were behind his back. He felt a sharp kick to his belly and he let out a loud, “Ooof!”

That pain cleared his mind. His eyes opened wide and he looked around. Jennifer was gazing down at him. She gave him a little wink and stood up.

“Hey there, sunshine,” a man said.  

He thrashed a bit, looking around. He was inside of some sort of warehouse. It wasn’t abandoned, he could see crates and boxes on the metal shelving. Kent was standing behind her, grinning like a cat who’d just gotten the cream. 

“I’d introduce myself but Jens, here, says you already know who I am,” he said, kneeling down. He crouched low, his hands on his knees. He tilted his head at Ianto and smiled. “Well, they say you English are polite so I’ll introduce myself anyway.” He touched his chest and smiled. “Perry Kent. I’d offer to shake but you’re kinda tied up.” 

Ianto had faced challenges in the alternate universe, some he’d even initiated, but this wasn’t the alternate universe. Aside from Carl Brogen, Ianto had no other heads hanging on the scoreboard. In the alternate universe, he’d hesitated in creating a sort of stage name for himself. He always chuckled at Duncan’s deep throated, theatrical introduction… _I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod_. But it didn’t take Ianto long to realise that introducing himself with a confident flourish gave the impression of age and skill. One certainly needed every advantage one could take, especially when tied and bound on a concrete floor. 

“Ifan of Cymru,” he said smoothly. “And I’m _Welsh_ , _not_ English.” 

He twisted his hands a bit, disguising the movement as annoyance. Whatever was binding his hands was wide and pulling the hair on his arms. _Duct tape_ … he recognised. 

“Ifan of Cymru,” Kent said, slowly. He sounded like a child trying to sound out an unknown word. He shook his head and said, “Yeah, what-the-fuck-ever.” 

Kent walked away, rolling his eyes. He opened the cylindrical case with Ianto’s longsword in it. He admired the heavy blade. 

“Now this? This I know and this is what I call quality,” he said, feeling the steel up and down. “Bouchard’s work isn’t it? You know that man’s been forging steel since the Crusades.” 

Ianto was using the distraction to assess his situation. He could be just about anywhere. He hadn’t been out long. He’d arrived at the hotel shortly before midday and the angle of the sun streaming through the windows said it was still the afternoon. He strained, listening for any sound. He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t hear any. What did surprise him was that he was still alive. The prudent decision would’ve been to kill him while he was still sedated. Though unsportsmanlike, it wasn’t a technical violation of the rules. He hadn’t expected Kent to fight with any honour. 

Without looking down, Kent read Ianto’s mind. “You’re wondering why you’re still alive, Mr. I’m-Welsh-not-English? I may be a lot of things but I’m not a cheat. Well, I’m not _that_ _much_ of a cheat.” Ianto winced when Kent planted the point of his sword on the concrete. He smirked at Ianto’s reaction to his sword’s mistreatment. He laid it down on top of a crate. Ianto saw a gun laying on the crate as well. “And why would I kill you and deny my little protege here the pleasure of doing it herself? Oh, that’s right, Mr. I’m-Welsh-not-English. You guys might think us Americans are slow, but right now, you’re so slow you’re practically in reverse.” 

Kent reached into the back of his jeans and tossed a gun at Jennifer who caught it, pointing it at him. That gun was Ianto’s. 

“Nice piece,” she said, loudly. Ianto looked over at her and he watched as she winked again. This time giving a pointed look at Kent’s back and then the gun. 

Once he was certain Kent wasn’t looking at him, Ianto nodded at her and she nodded back. This wasn’t part of their plan but at this point, they were making things up as they went along. 

Kent picked up the gun on the crate. This one Ianto didn’t recognise and he had no idea where Kent had obtained it, not that it mattered much. Kent crouched down again and gave Ianto a light slap on the face. “Do you know how hard it is to do anything with those follow-me-every-fucking-where-ers following me fucking everywhere?” He jerked his head in Jennifer’s direction. “A man’s nothing without a good woman standing next to him, Mr. I’m-Welsh-not-English. It took me a while to find the right one. Didn’t it, Jens?” 

“Prize sow,” she said, slyly.

“My silk purse,” he replied. “And today’s moving up day.” 

Before Jennifer could react, Kent turned and fired. The bullet landed squarely in the center of her chest. She fell backwards, Ianto’s gun tumbling from her hand. 

“NO!” Ianto shouted. He struggled against the tape but it was too late. 

Jennifer moved her arms and legs weakly as she laid there. One hand tried to move itself to her chest but never made it.  

“Oh Jesus…” she gasped. 

Ianto could barely hear her and Kent ignored her. Ianto continued to stare at Jennifer. She took a deep, rattling breath and held it. She took another and another, gasping for air. Ianto couldn’t help but morbidly count each breath. _Six… seven…_ When Ianto got to nine, she let it out like a sigh. Her whole body relaxed and her head lolled to the side. She was dead. 

It had taken Ianto many hours to revive but the alien creature, its venom and his teammates attempts to resuscitate him had severely damaged his body. Jennifer had only the single gunshot wound to the chest. He had no idea how long it would take, but he guessed not long. Kent’s voice brought his attention back to him. He tapped the gun barrel to his own head. It was an impatient gesture. 

“I fucking hate waiting,” he said, his voice rising until the last word was a shout. He let out a sigh. He waved at Jennifer’s body. “Sorry about this. Another bullet would’ve made that quicker but would’ve been longer on the flip side.” He smiled and continued, “She and I are going to make one hell of a pair.” 

“This isn’t a team sport, Kent,” Ianto snapped. 

In a poor attempt at mimicking Ianto’s accent, Kent said, “This isn’t a team sport…” He snorted and gave Ianto a light slap on the face. “You’re one to talk. I heard you dropped that old padre like a ton of bricks. No way a fledgling like you takes down a guy with a couple of centuries on him. You either got real fucking lucky or you got real fucking ‘lucky’.” He made little quotes in the air with his fingers on the last word. 

“Brogen was a madman,” Ianto hissed. 

Kent laughed. “Yeah, cos we’re all real sane. That teacher of yours stepped in for you, didn’t she?” 

“No one did,” he protested. 

“Tsk, tsk. I must not tell lies. Someone else then?” Kent walked around Ianto in a circle. He leaned down, tapping the barrel of his gun against the wedding ring on Ianto’s finger. “The hubby would be the next guess.” When Ianto took a little too long to answer, Kent pounced. “Oh-ho! Gotcha! Don’t worry, Mr. I’m-Welsh-not-English. We all get away with it once or twice.” 

Kent stood back up and walked around so he could face Ianto. “Guns… technology… airplanes… everything that’s changed the world, changes the Game with it. It’s not about following the rules anymore. It’s about pushing the grey areas. And this?” he waved at Ianto’s bound arms and legs. “This is a nice grey area.” 

He stood up and looked down at him. He waved the gun around and then pointed it at himself. “This isn’t holy ground and I’m not going to hold you down while she kills you. Rules obeyed. Now, that syringe full of tranquiliser and the duct tape? Tomato… tomatoe…” 

“I thought you weren’t that much of a cheat,” Ianto spat back. 

“You’re awake aren’t you?” Kent said. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of his jeans and let the gun fall down to his side. Dressed differently, he’d look like something out of a western. “Look, if this was for me, we’d do this a little different. I’d cut you loose, toss you that fine ass sword over there and we’d settle this man to man, because if it were me, I know I’d want to go down fighting. But the little lady over there? We gotta build up her strength first. She needs weaning.” 

Kent and Ianto’s heads both snapped around as Jennifer gasped to life. 

“And boy does she know how to make an entrance,” Kent said with a smile. He walked over to her. She’d rolled onto all fours and was coughing. Her nails were dug into the concrete floor and she was holding her chest with one of her hands. She’d started to cry, tears falling one by one. Her face was red and full of terror. She was crawling away from some unseen force, her fingers biting into the concrete.  

“Hey, hey,” Kent said, leaning down. He grabbed her around the waist and she struggled. “It’s me. You’re fine. You’re back.” 

Jennifer slammed the heel of her hands into her forehead. “Oh Jesus, my head…” 

“It’s just from me and him. You’ll get used to it,” Kent said. He put the gun in his hand down on the ground. He smoothed her hair back. “How do you feel?” 

A surprised look was on her face as she knelt and looked down at her shirt. “It’s just my head. Otherwise, fine… I feel… fine… no different than before.”  

“That’s my girl,” Kent said with a smile. He waved at Ianto’s sword. “I think his is too big for you.” 

She let out a mad laugh and dragged Kent in for a kiss. “You always looked after me Perry. You got my Momma that job at the truck stop. You put that money away so my kid brother could go to the junior college.” 

“Hey don’t get sappy on me, Jens. Don’t lose focus,” he said, sternly. He stood up and walked towards his own sword. “You want to use my sword?” 

Jennifer grabbed the gun Kent had so carelessly abandoned. “I think I will.” 

She emptied the revolver into Kent’s back. It’s hard to miss someone standing less than five feet away from you. The bullets hit Kent squarely in the back and he fell to his knees. He coughed, blood dribbling down his lip. “Jens…?”

“You know,” she said, standing. Her voice darkened with each word and with each word, she stepped closer to where Kent’s sword was resting. “I always fucking hate it when you call me that.” 

She picked it up, wrapping both hands on the hilt. She kept adjusting the grip, finding what was comfortable. “Hey, Perry? Say hi to my Daddy for me when you see him in Hell.” 

Kent was too shocked to respond or react. He just stared dumbly as Jennifer raised the sword and swung with all her might. Slicing off someone’s head in one swing is a lot harder than they make it appear in films. It usually takes training and skill to do the job cleanly. Maybe Jennifer had imagined the moment or seen Kent do it enough but she managed to aim properly and swing strongly. Kent’s head went rolling and his body fell, blood pooling beneath both. There was nothing on her face but complete satisfaction until the lightning began and then there was nothing but pain. 


	11. Chapter 11

The lightning stopped, and the stench of ozone made Ianto want to be sick. Jennifer was hunched over, panting. Ianto knew what a first quickening did to a person. The first time? Well, he’d been amazed his body hadn’t exploded into flesh and bone confetti. The pain was excruciating and the pleasure just as immense. Ianto saw a mad, hungry look in Jennifer’s exhausted face. Her hair was in disarray as she threw it back, laughing. She wiped tears from her eyes and stood up, unsteady and wobbling. She ran her hands through her hair and then slid them down her neck and chest. She rubbed along her breasts and down her belly, squeezing her legs together as she panted. Her eyes were wild and dazzling. Miranda had warned him that some immortals became addicted to the sensation, that it was more powerful than any sex act or drug and it was working into Jennifer’s blood. 

“Wow…” she gasped. 

She was certainly handling her first quickening better than Ianto had. “Jennifer? Are you all right?” 

“Oh yeah,” she said, smiling. She ran her hand through her hair again and laughed. She looked at Ianto’s face and saw the expectant look. “Oh, right, sorry.” 

She put down Kent’s sword to free up her hands. She dragged Kent’s body off towards the shelves, leaving a long smear of blood. Then she walked over to Ianto and bent down. 

“It’s your turn,” she said. Instead of untaping his arms and legs, she grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him into the centre of the room. She dropped him and then wiped her hands. She stepped back and picked up Kent’s sword again, pointing it at him. “Let me guess? You thought I was gonna untie you. Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids.” 

Ianto felt his stomach up in his throat. When he’d woken up in the warehouse, he knew he was lucky to be alive. Now, he understood just how lucky. He wasn’t surprised Jennifer had betrayed him. He wasn’t completely thick and he’d never completely trusted her. He’d hoped for the best and expected the worst. What had surprised him was how much the betrayal hurt. It had drained more from his spirit than he thought it would or should. Ianto wondered if he’d ever take a chance like this again. Would he never be able to trust anyone? And if he did, would it cost him his life? 

He’d have plenty of time to ponder the philosophy of it all and kick himself later. He needed to regroup, be calm and rational. _A sword is only as sharp as the mind that wields it_ …  He shifted his hands to test the bonds. There was no way he’d manage to break them from behind. The only hope he had would be to get his hands in front of him, somehow. He wiggled. Sharing a bed with Jack Harkness had certainly made him flexible enough. Her voice brought his attention back to her. She was pointing the sword at him, wagging the point back and forth. 

“You know, you might want to rethink the whole gay thing because I swear, when I shake my ass and puff out my tits all you men start thinking with the downstairs brain.” She gave him a nasty look and smirked. “This was all way too easy. Fooling Perry. Fooling you?” She planted the point of the sword on the floor and leaned on the hilt and Ianto tried not to wince again at the mistreatment. 

“You know, there’s two types of men in the world. Men like this son of a bitch here.” She kicked Kent’s body and then pointed the blade at him again. “Then there’s men like you. And I’m pretty sure your kind’s worse. A man like this? You know exactly where you stand. You know your _place_.” She’d emphasized the word with another sharp kick. “But you? You ‘knight in shining armour’ types? You’re the ones women gotta watch out for. You wine and dine and smile. You’re the ones who treat us real nice. All disarming, like.” She leaned over and seized Ianto’s face. “Then, one day, the factory shuts down and you lose your job. And then? Then you start drinking. Start knocking around your wife. Your kids. And everyone wonders what happened to that good, sweet man you used to be, but the truth was that you were always an asshole. You just hid it better than men like Perry.” 

He gave her a disappointed look. “I’m a man of my word, Jennifer.” 

She let out a sarcastic snort. “Ain’t no such thing.” 

“I wanted to help you.I still do. _Let me help you_ ,” he pleaded. 

“I didn’t ask for your fucking help. I don’t want it,” she spat. She lifted the sword, giving it a few swings. “And it looks like I don’t need it, neither.” 

As she continued to test the sword, Ianto watched how she handled the weapon carefully. He felt confident he could get his bound hands in front him and also defeat her. The swing for Kent’s head had been a lucky one. Her stance and grip all spoke of someone who had little or no training. Still, it would be better if he didn’t face her unarmed. His own sword was still laying on the crate. The swords weren’t the only weapons Ianto needed to worry about. Jennifer obviously wasn’t above using the guns and Ianto was certain she knew how to aim and fire correctly though her accuracy may be questionable. 

He’d have to worry about that later. The more immediate concern was the duct tape around his wrists and ankles. Now, he understood why Miranda walked around armed to the teeth with concealed blades all over her person. If Ianto had something hidden within his belt or his shoe, the duct tape would be a simple matter but he had nothing. _Hindsight_ … 

He’d have to move very quickly. He looked around and began to plan. Once he was free, he’d need to find immediate cover. The shelving behind him was completely full of various crates and boxes. Playfully swinging the sword about would only distract Jennifer for so long. Ianto didn’t think he had time to wait for a moment when she was turned away. He shifted, dropping his shoulders as far as he could while arcing his back. He blew all the air out of his lungs, stretching his belly and chest. The movement squeezed his shoulder blades together even more, dropping his wrists lower. 

With one quick movement, he slid his taped wrists under his rear and brought his legs through. Jennifer immediately noticed her prize was escaping. She turned, and started to run towards Ianto with the sword raised. He rolled, so he was sitting with his knees bent. He put his arms between his knees and with all his might pushed his legs apart. It worked, the tape ripped. He rolled away just as the sword came down exactly where he’d been sitting. He landed a firm head butt to the side of her face, then sprang up and bolted for the shelves. He ran down a few rows and then stopped, quickly toeing off his shoes. He put them on top of a box, pushing them out of sight. He ran down the row to the end. His feet slapped the concrete, feeling uncomfortable and harsh. He made a mental note to begin running in the archives without shoes once in a while… if he got out of this. He put his back against the metal and listened. 

Jennifer’s footsteps sounded close but far enough away that he had a few moments. He took a deep breath and held it. He puffed out his chest and then bent his arms. As hard as he could he slammed his elbows into his body. The tape around his wrists ripped. He was free. He yanked the tape off and pushed it out of sight. With his socked feet, he began slowly making his way back to Kent’s body and his own sword. The sound of Jennifer’s footsteps was getting further away. 

He ignored Kent’s headless corpse as he reached for his sword. He quickly checked the edge, glad to see it was undamaged. The point could use some honing but he could take care of that later. The next thing he picked up was Kent’s gun; probably an item he’d purchased locally on the streets. He went over the weapon quickly. The revolver certainly looked like it’d been through the mill but it looked functional. It would have been more helpful if it wasn’t empty. Ianto knelt down and began to dig through Kent’s pockets, locating a handful of bullets. He quickly opened the chamber and tipped it back. The empty casings fell out onto the floor and he winced at the sharp metallic noise, looking around for Jennifer. He began loading the gun as quickly as he could, listening for her shoes. He put the loaded gun into the waistband of his trousers and walked over to the shelving. He put his sword down the back of his shirt, the crossguard resting on his collar and began to climb. 

When he reached the top, he looked around and found that he hadn’t been the only one with the idea. Shawn Graham was crouched between two boxes, attempting to hide while also observing. He shot Shawn a look of concern but the Watcher shook his head and gave him a thumbs up. He was fine. Ianto returned to his own situation. It had been a few minutes but Jennifer showed no signs of returning. She had no real reason to come back. She had Kent’s sword and Ianto’s gun. He was about to climb back down when he heard a door open and shut. A few moments later, he saw her. She must have assumed he’d fled and wasn’t coming back so she’d turned her attention to Kent’s body. She was carrying a large roll of thick bin liners. She obviously didn’t know that the Watchers would take care of it for her. 

 _Turnabout is fair play_ … he thought. He raised the revolver and took careful aim. He fired off all six rounds and Jennifer fell forward, trying to brace herself but fell into the shelf in front of her. Ianto could feel Shawn’s eyes staring into him like daggers in an unspoken accusation. He gave the Watcher an offended look and began to climb down. 

He dragged her body and left it by Kent’s. While he’d waited for Jennifer to revive, Ianto had retrieved his shoes and the bits of duct tape. He saw no reason to leave a mess behind and he liked those shoes. After he took back his gun from her, he leaned against one of the crates and continued to wait. He knew what he needed to do but he spent the entire time trying to find another way. Miranda would kill her without hesitation. Despite Henry’s assurance that their teacher wouldn’t follow her own advice, if Miranda allowed her to live, it would’ve shocked Ianto. Duncan, at the other end of the spectrum, would let Jennifer go with a deadly warning to never cross his path again. He wondered what Henry would do. Would he let Jennifer go? Would he kill her? Ianto put the thought out of his mind. It didn’t matter what anyone else would do. It only mattered what he was going to do and his mind only saw one way. 

When he’d been in the alternate reality, he’d had no code of honour. He had fought when opportunity knocked or the whim struck him. Sometimes it was in his own defence and sometimes not. He’d been a loner then, but not anymore. If he let her go, he doubted he would ever see her again but he couldn’t take that risk. The Game was what gave him and Jack more time together. Every threat he allowed to persist, was a threat to him and Jack’s future together. 

But this wasn’t just about his safety. If he let her go, even if she never crossed his path again, she’d go on with her deceptions and scams and others would die. Miranda had advised him early on to find his own code of honour within the Game, to find what was and was not acceptable to him. She’d double crossed Kent. She’d tried to kill him. She wasn’t a manipulated and naive girl. She knew exactly what she was doing and had all along. This was about duty. People like Jennifer made the Game more deadly for them all and the Game was deadly enough. They policed their own and Ianto wouldn’t allow someone like this out of the penalty box. This was her red card. 

He was leaning against one of the crates, his legs crossed at the ankles. He didn’t look up when she gasped to life. She let out a long string of hacking coughs, rolling onto all fours. Ianto knew exactly how she felt. Dying and coming back once was straining enough. Dying and coming back twice in a few hours was enough to make you feel like a lorry had dragged you half a mile and you hadn’t eaten or drank in weeks. 

“I’d offer you some water, but I don’t have any,” he said. 

“Eat shit and die, asshole,” she snapped. The loud comment earned her another coughing fit. 

“How colourful,” he said, rolling his eyes. He pushed off the crate and brushed the bits of wood from his suit. He took off his suit jacket, tossing it aside. Then he made a great show of rolling up his shirt sleeves. He dropped Kent’s sword onto the ground and kicked it towards her. “I’ll give you five minutes to rest. Try to run and I’ll hunt you down.” 

Ianto saw no fear in Jennifer’s eyes, only defiance. Instead of resting as he advised, she reached for the sword and stood up. She jumped up and down a few times, swinging her arms, trying to loosen them. Under the guise of warming up, she dropped the sword and bolted. Ianto reacted just as quickly. He bent for discarded weapon and ran, overtaking her and blocking her path. She tried to push passed him but he shoved her. She fell backwards, staring up at him with fearful eyes. He could see that fear was genuine now; the falseness not masked with nervous fidgeting. He tossed the sword to her side. 

“Pick it up,” he ordered. 

“Stop being a fucking pussy and just do it!” she shouted at him. 

“Pick it up,” he repeated. 

“Don’t got the balls to kill a defenseless woman,” she sneered. 

Perceptions were everything in the Game. He wasn’t a murderer or an executioner but she didn’t need to know that. Channeling Miranda, Ianto leaned forward and put the edge of his sword against her neck. “If you think I can’t kill you because you won’t fight back, you’re wrong. If you think I can’t kill you because your non-functional reproductive organs are on the inside rather than the outside, you’re also wrong. I’m trying to give you a fighting chance. Some of us might say that’s foolish but it’s a question of honour - something you and Kent clearly knew nothing about. So pick up that sword.” 

With a dry sob, she rolled and obeyed. She stood up and held the blade up. Slowly, determination crept over her face. Maybe she convinced herself she could get lucky. She attacked, swinging laterally and Ianto parried the blow but didn’t riposte. He swung in retaliation, and she blocked it awkwardly. The force of his swing sent her off balance. He eased back, fighting simply to allow her to adjust and she was barely keeping up with him. He bypassed several opportunities to wound her, trying to give her more of a chance. 

Now, Ianto was regretting this. His earlier assumption was correct. Jennifer had no training whatsoever. He should have done her the courtesy of just killing her. This fight was a sick joke. A gesture that had meant to be a kindness was causing her suffering. It hadn’t been his intention, but he was mocking her and toying with her. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that. He saw the terror on her face. She knew she couldn’t win and drawing this out was torturing her. As the seconds ticked away, the terror and panic spread further over her face until fearful tears began to fall. Ianto could see her free hand was shaking. 

Her strength was fading. Her next swing was weak and Ianto easily blocked it. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing it and she dropped the sword as pain shot up her arm. He turned, switching the grip and driving the point of his sword straight into the middle of her chest. Her eyes went wide and she gasped. He closed his eyes, feeling the guilt wash over him. 

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he said. He bit back the apology that nearly escaped. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her opening her mouth. Was she about to beg? Ianto didn’t give her the chance. 

“There can be only one,” he said, hollowly. He yanked the blade from her chest and swung. 

Once her head fell forward, Ianto closed his eyes. He dropped his sword with a metallic crash and stepped back, leaning against the end of the shelves. He felt the hairs on his arms raise as the electricity charged the air. His skin crawled from it. As the quickening took hold, Ianto gripped his chest. He held on tightly, riding out the pain and the pleasure. When it was over, he sank down, burying his face in his hands. 

When he felt someone touch his shoulder, he jerked away, startled. Shawn took a step back, holding his hands up. “Woah! It’s just me.” 

Ianto relaxed. He settled back down, feeling his come soaked pants shifting beneath his trousers. They were uncomfortably cold and sticky. He knocked his head back against the shelves and opened his eyes. He stared down at Jennifer’s body and banged his head against the shelves a little harder. 

“Hey, hey! Stop that,” Shawn snapped. He knelt down and shook Ianto’s shoulder. “You did what you had to, man. It was the right move.” 

He let out a rueful chuckle and banged his head against the shelving again. “You think so, yeah?” 

“I do,” he repeated. 

Ianto shook his head and spat on the ground. He stood up and angrily stomped towards the warehouse exit. He didn’t look at Shawn as he pushed past him but said, “You’re not the one who has to live with it.” 

Shawn took out his mobile and was about to call in the cleaning crew but he stopped. He bent down for Ianto’s sword and then ran out of the warehouse, catching Ianto by the arm. 

“Hey, Ianto, wait…” 

“Piss off, Shawn.” He tried to shove Shawn off but failed. 

“Look, I get it. The Game sucks. I’m not just your Watcher, Ianto, I’m your friend.” Shawn let go of Ianto’s arm and stepped back. He pointed between them and the warehouse. “This is important to me and I don’t just mean my damn job. I’m not supposed to get involved but you must be really fucking stupid if you think it’s easy for me to stand there and watch while you’re unconscious on the floor. I actually care about you, Ianto. You’re my friend. You know how many Watchers are on the take? Pushing the lines and working the grey zone? Believe it or not, you need me. I’m the only friend you got on the inside.” 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” Ianto reached into his suit jacket pocket and took out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. “This isn’t going to get any easier is it?” 

“Man, I’ve seen some fucked up shit since I became a Watcher. I’m sure you’ve seen the same at Torchwood. No, it doesn’t get any easier.” Shawn reached out and took a cigarette, swapping it for the sword. Ianto lit it for him. 

Shawn blew the smoke out and sighed. “There are some nasty people in the Game, Ianto, and you just removed one from play and kept another one from springing up in his place. It was a clean fight.” 

“That should make me feel better but it doesn’t,” Ianto said, inhaling deeply.  “And I didn’t remove Kent. Jennifer did.” 

“Yeah, well, you say potato… If you hadn’t killed her, she would’ve gone on playing dirty. A leopard don’t change its stripes,” Shawn said. 

“I know.” He took one more small puff and then crushed the cigarette under his shoe.

Shawn smiled and said, “I mean I could give you some horseshit about being the change you want to see in the world…” 

Ianto laughed and shook his head. “But you won’t do that.” 

“Nah, man, I’m too classy,” he replied with a smile. He held out his mobile. “We’re just east of the city. Wentloog Avenue. Just take the phone and call up Jack or someone to come pick you up. It’s a long ass walk back to the Hub.” 

Ianto took the phone from him and, after a moment’s indecision, dialed Henry’s number. “Henry? Yeah I’m fine, mate… Wentloog and Lamby, by the roundabout… Right… Thanks… Cheers, mate.”  

He rang off and was about to hand the phone back to Shawn when he saw the screen. Shawn’s recent calls had come up automatically. He raised an eyebrow at the last dialed number. 

“You have my husband on speed dial?” Ianto asked, turning Shawn’s phone around. 

Trying to lighten the mood, Shawn shrugged and said, “Yeah, well, you know, I’m a straight man who’s comfortable and secure in my sexuality but if I ever get curious about playing for the other team, I want my tips from the best…” He trailed off at the look on Ianto’s face. He took his mobile back and put it into his pocket. “All right, all right… Jack asked me to keep him in the loop. So I did.” 

He could see Ianto’s temper flare. Shawn held up his hand. “Hey, look, man. I’m not one to poke my nose where it don’t belong-” 

Ianto rolled his eyes and spoke over him. “Says the guy who follows me everywhere…” 

“-but you should ease up on him. I don’t want to be the one to point out the fact that you just called up your old pal Henry instead of your husband to come get you. I get you’re trying to keep this away from Jack because it worries him but he loves you. He’s never gonna stop worrying about you. I admit he could go about it better sometimes but having me shoot him a call to let him know you still got your head doesn’t hurt anybody.” 

Ianto put his hands on his hips and nervously asked, “What did you tell him?” 

“Don’t worry. I just told him you won. I didn’t tell him about anything else that went down. Give me some credit. I’m not _that_ stupid,” Shawn assured. He slouched a bit and asked, “We cool?” 

Ianto nodded and reached out for Shawn’s hand. “Yeah. We’re cool.” 

Shawn tapped on his phone to bring in the appropriate cleaning crews. “You should get out of here.” 

“What’s going to happen to her?” 

“You really wanna know how that goes down?” 

Ianto nodded. 

“She’s got next of kin so that makes it more complicated. It doesn’t happen often,” Shawn said, shrugging. “We’ll transport the body back to the States. We’ll figure out which city they last thought she was in then dump it there in a well known crime area. Probably make up a story - ritual gang killing for initiation or extremist religious based beheading works as a cover these days…” 

Ianto expected as much. He would’ve done the same - a coverup is a coverup whether it was immortals or aliens. “Will you give me contact information for her next of kin?” 

“You don’t want to go doing that, Ianto,” Shawn warned. “That isn’t going to make this easier.” 

“No, but it’ll be easier on her family if they don’t have to pay for a funeral,” Ianto said. 

“Suit yourself,” Shawn said. “I can’t give it to you until after this whole thing plays out though.”

“Fair enough.” 

The two of them looked up as a car pulled up. Shawn raised his hand, waving at Henry. Henry got out of the car, stepping forward with his sword drawn. A nervous look passed between Ianto and Shawn and Shawn began to back away… just in case. 

“I had no way of knowing if you were under duress,” Henry said, putting his sword back in his coat. He turned as the Watcher van pulled up behind his car. He raised an eyebrow and said, “I take it the situation is resolved?” 

Ianto nodded. 

“Miss Richter?” Henry asked, delicately.

Shawn nervously scratched at his head and wandered away. Ianto didn’t say anything. He just walked towards the car with his head down. His silence was all the answer Henry needed.


	12. Chapter 12

The ride back to the Hub was taken in silence. Ianto muttered a polite expression of gratitude when Henry dropped him by the Plass. He sent a quick text to Shawn, letting the Watcher know that unless Kent or Jennifer had disposed of them, his overnight bag was in Jennifer’s hotel room and his car parked outside. Shawn answered him immediately saying that he’d take care of it. It was all part of the Watcher service. They didn’t want Ianto to have any connection to anywhere Jennifer had been if something went wrong and local police became involved. 

Ianto stepped onto the invisible lift and let it descend. A bone crushing fatigue was settling on his shoulders. He wanted to take a hot shower, crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Distantly, in the back of his memory, he remembered feeling like this after each head he took in the alternate reality. The quickening itself was a rush of adrenaline and endorphins but the crash afterwards was always just as spectacular. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw flashes of light, trying to banish the sight of Jennifer’s long ginger hair. He wobbled a little more than usual when the paving stone stopped, let out a long sigh and stepped off of it. 

To his surprise, the Hub was empty. There wasn’t any sign of Gwen or Fish. Ianto assumed that Jack had sent them home early. He was grateful. He didn’t want to ignore them and he wasn’t up to questions either. He turned towards the kitchen to begin tidying up but had momentarily forgotten that it was Fish’s assigned week. Normally, he would still check on his colleague’s work but tonight he was simply too tired. It could wait until morning after he’d gotten a good night’s sleep… if he could get a good night’s sleep. He walked across the empty Hub and into Jack’s office. To his surprise, his husband was nowhere to be found. Ianto glanced down at the hatch and then turned. Instead of heading for a hot shower and their warm bed, he headed up to the roof. The access door was propped open with a brick. Ianto stepped through, ensuring the door hadn’t shut behind him. Jack was standing next to the edge. 

“Jack.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, turning around just long enough to look Ianto up and down a few times. 

The relief in Jack’s voice was evident. The change to Jack’s body language was immediate. Even from the back, Ianto could see the way the tension drained away. Even with the quick phone call from Shawn, Ianto knew Jack wouldn’t be satisfied Ianto was completely fine until he’d seen it with his own eyes. He walked across the roof and stood next to his husband on the ledge. They stood there for a few minutes, watching the lights of the city. Jack reached over, blinding taking Ianto’s hand. Jack’s fingertips were cold, the palm a bit clammy. Ianto squeezed and held firm. _I'm here, Jack,_

“Was it bad?” Jack asked. The question was fearful, almost as if he didn’t want to know. 

Ianto didn’t answer at first. He debated whether or not to tell him what had happened. _No more lies_ … “It was close.” 

“Jennifer?” 

He tightened his hand around Jack’s convulsively and Jack squeezed back. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

A lump formed in Ianto’s throat as he remembered how he’d silenced Jennifer before she could speak. Had she been about to plead for her life? Would he still have been able to go through with it if he’d heard that plea? Had he stopped her because he hadn’t wanted to hear? Something in Ianto’s mind told him that this would haunt him for a long, long time to come. He pushed it out of his mind. 

“Not yet,” Ianto mumbled. 

He shifted closer to Jack, standing shoulder to shoulder. He let go of Jack’s hand so he could slide his arm around Jack’s waist, under his coat. Jack lifted his arm, draping it across Ianto’s shoulders. He turned, as if to step down off the ledge but Ianto stopped him. “Can we stay up here for a bit?” 

Jack tugged his husband in closer. “As long as you want, Yan.” 

They stood there for a long time. The silence wasn’t awkward. There wasn’t a space between them anymore. With hesitation, Ianto broke the silence with a subject that may bring that space back. 

“I should’ve died that day, Jack. The Game is why I’m still here. It’s been an adjustment for me but I underestimated how much of an adjustment it would be for you. I thought because you were immortal you’d just understand. I keep reminding you that we’re not the same but I keep forgetting myself.” 

“I know the challenges aren’t going to stop,” Jack said. He didn’t turn to face Ianto, but continued to look out over the buildings. The wind blew softly, ruffling his hair. “When you were mortal, Will and I protected you. It’s not something I can just turn off. I can’t stand back like I don’t care, like the outcome doesn’t matter to me… because it’s everything to me.” His voice dropped and Ianto could barely hear him over the wind. “I love you, Ianto. I’m sorry I was spying on you. I won’t do it again.” 

“I love you too, Jack,” he replied, strongly. “You turn me round inside. You twist me up. You always have… ever since you helped me catch a pterodactyl. I lose who I am sometimes with you. It’s hard for me to think clearly. And that can get me killed.” He scraped his shoe on the edge. Some dirt cascaded down the side of the building. “The Game is what’s given us more time together and what will keep giving us more time together. I don’t want it to be something coming between us. I don’t want it to be a source of resentment when it could give me what I always wanted - a lifetime with you. It could be more than a lifetime. Centuries. Millennia. It’s time we both want. I don’t want to skulk away every time I have to face a challenge, like I’m having some kind of affair or doing something wrong. We have to find compromise, cariad - something that lets you in but not so much that you distract me. I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I’m sorry, I just didn’t see any other way…” He sighed and continued, “If something had happened… I never want to leave things like that between us.” 

Pressed so close to his husband, Ianto felt the shuddered inhale. Jack cleared his throat and said, “What if I go through Shawn? He lets me know how you are and you can concentrate on what you have to do. I won’t be in the way but I’ll still know what’s going on. I won’t go charging in, I promise.” 

The swiftness of Jack’s answer led Ianto to believe that Jack had been thinking this over for some time, probably since he’d left for Jennifer’s hotel. 

“I’ll talk to him about it. I think it’s a good option but I don’t want him to get into trouble for it. It might look like he’s feeding me information through you,” Ianto said. He shifted, hooking his thumb into the waistband of Jack’s trousers. He smiled and said, “You might also make him go spare.” 

“Hey,” Jack said, mildly offended. He turned his head. As he studied Ianto’s profile, a smile broke out across his face. It was the smile that Ianto constantly referred to as his. Jack hadn’t realised it was different from any of his other smiles until Ianto had mentioned it on their honeymoon. They’d been laying in bed, Jack drawing circles on Ianto’s bare chest while his Welshman had stared out the gigantic windows at Neptune. Ianto had turned to look at him and told him how much he loved ‘his smile.’ 

Jack’s smile diminished, taking on a sympathetic edge and he said, “It was a hard one wasn’t it?” 

“I think they’re all going to be,” Ianto admitted with a heavy sigh.

“Whenever you want to talk, I’m here, Yan.” 

He turned, giving Jack a soft look. “I think I’d like to have a shower first and something to eat.” 

He stepped away from the edge and held up his hand. Jack took it and, hand in hand, they walked hand in hand back to the access door. Ianto felt a rush of warmth and love, and an idea suddenly struck him. As he held the door open for his husband, he asked, “Jack? What would you think of moving into the flat?” 

Jack stopped and put his hand on the door, looking at Ianto quizzically. “Your old flat?” 

Ianto shook his head. “No, you and Mandy’s flat in the north sub-basement.” He cleared his throat and continued. “We don’t know when Mandy will be back. It could be years really.” 

“You don’t like the bunker?” Jack asked. 

Afraid he’d hurt his husband’s feelings, he put his hand over Jack’s on the door and said, “I love it but it is a bit cramped at times. I don’t like having to keep so many of my clothes in the locker room. If you don’t want to…” 

Jack shook his head and smiled. “How about we talk about that, too?” 

Ianto smiled back and nodded. He kept Jack’s hand in his as he stepped through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be going on another writing hiatus. I have posted the rest of this story from my hospital bed where my husband and I are awaiting the birth of our first child, a daughter, nearly 5 weeks early. Not wanting to leave people hanging since the story was written already, I decided to post it while I wait for these induction medications to work. There are several more stories in the series so I will be back!  
> EDIT: Thank you everyone for reading and offering your well wishes and congratulations. After a failed induction for pre-eclampsia, my daughter, Amelia, was born via c-section. This great blessing was magnified by the fact that my daughter did not have to spend any time in the NICU and was completely healthy. Even with a premature infant in the house, I am finding that I still can manage a few minutes here and there to write. Oddly, having only a few short minutes has made me a more efficient writer. The next installment is in the works!


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